Shadows and Dust in the Pattern
by RenS
Summary: Two universes meet soon after the Khitomer Accords are signed and the paths of each are diverted. TOS Movie Era and Babylon 5 crossover
1. Legality for this Story

'SHADOWS IN THE PATTERN' NOTICE: THIS STORY MAY BE DISTRIBUTED FREE OF CHARGE BUT MUST NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN IN ANY FORM. ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE-----------all material related to the Star Trek genres, their characters and technological devices and/or references to such, from the television shows, movies and books, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by Paramount Studios and whatever corporation it may or may not be owned by. "Babylon Five", its characters, technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, and books may be or are registered trademarks of Babylon 5. Its characters, names, and all related indicia are trademarks of Time Warner Entertainment Co., LP. None of the studios are responsible for the content of this story. Other names and additional characters are the creation of the author who is solely responsible for them as such. Further inspirations are from the game "Star Trek: Invasion," and the fantasy book series "Wheel of Time." Descriptions of hyperspace are based on "Babylon 5: Legends of the Rangers" and the book "Babylon 5: To Dream in the City of Sorrows." Several websites are also used as a basis for details in the story: Star Trek Cartography; Index of –SF-Conversions; Star Trek Minutiae Sci-Fi Starship Size Comparison; and BabTech on the Net. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY 'SHADOWS IN THE PATTERN' IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN IN ANY FORM. THIS DEDICATION MUST ACCOMPANY ANY DISTRUBUTION OF THIS STORY.

My thanks to Mr. Albert Green Jr. and his 'Universe of Change' and 'Those Who Stand' for inspiring me to write my own crossover story on fanfiction.net.


	2. Prologue

**Sometime in the distant past**  
  
Preserver #1: "Initiation of the current experiment is a success."

Preserver #2: "Yet, the price may be too great. We need to seal the gate in order that the price does not stress the Pattern too much.

Preserver #1: "Agreed. The sealing will take some time if we are not to leave a scar in the omniverse."

Preserver #3: "It is predicted that a race will discover the gate. However, the gate will completely seal before that race could exploit the discovery fully. The price will remain low."

Preserver #2: "Barring any unforeseen events. Even our considerable prescience cannot see everything."  
  
**In the Earth year 2293**  
  
"Second star to the right and straight on till morning."

That was the last thing James T. Kirk said upon leaving Khitomer. Captain Kirk chuckled. Even though he's aging, he still has the desire for adventures. He would not like a peaceful retirement. He walked over to the communications station and glanced at Nyota Uhura. "Starfleet Command is still demanding that we return to Earth for decommissioning and retirement." Uhura smiled. It was tacitly agreed that they would ignore Command until ship's morning. A beep sounded from her console. Uhura frowned and held her communication device closer into her ear. "Captain, there's a distress signal from a civilian freighter. It doesn't say what kind of trouble, but it's calling for any starship to help the freighter." Kirk raised his eyebrows. Distress this deep in Federation territory?

Spock was already looking at his science scanner. The Vulcan turned back to face Kirk. "Captain, the civilian freighter is the _Hakudo Maru_ carrying an archaeological team to the ruins in the Titan System. We are the only starship in this sector." Spock looked at Kirk questioningly.

One last adventure before morning! Kirk practically ran to sit in the command chair and gave his order. "Mr. Chekov, alter course to the Titan System. Maximum warp!" "Aye, aye, Keptin!"

* * *

The _Enterprise_ dropped out of warp upon entering the Titan System. Kirk turned his chair to look at Spock. "Anything?" 

"The _Hakudo Maru_ does not appear to be there anymore. There is no debris nor is there any recent warp trail indicating either the freighter or any other vessel. It is simply not there." Kirk frowned. The distress signal had stopped repeating itself soon after the _Enterprise_ altered course for the Titan System. Was the signal false? "Was the _Hakudo Maru_ actually here?"

"A trap?" Chekov was leery of falling into yet more conspiracies. Spock simply looked at Chekov before answering Kirk's semi-rhetorical question. "The freighter was indeed here. There is a faint trail of a vessel leading into the system to the fifth planet before ending there. The signature of the warp trail matches those on file for the freighter." Kirk frowned in thought, staring at the starfield in the main viewer. One of the stars was particularly large and bright, its light reflected by the crescent surface of one of the outer gas giants.

"Take us into standard orbit around Titan V, Mr. Chekov." He walked over to Spock and asked, "What can you tell me about the _Hakudo Maru_ and Titan V?" Spock's fingers danced on the science console, bringing up files for them to see. "The _Hakudo Maru_ is one of the old updated Surak-class ships built at the T'Khut Shipyards. It served as a science and patrol ship for the Vulcan Colonies before being bought by a merchant from New Nippon. It was recently contracted to the University of Medara on Betazed and the University of Cydonia on Mars as part of a Federation program of cultural exchanges in archaeology. The ruins on the K-class planet Titan V have not been thoroughly surveyed since the system was charted by the Federation in its aggressive move to establish outposts along the Klingon border and has since been ignored. It was ideal for the scientists of both universities. Yet, the process of choosing this star system was odd."

"Odd? How?" "The director of the program claimed to have a 'hunch' about Titan V." Kirk had to smile. "Spock, hunches are common and often are right for humans."

"The director is Vulcan." "Well, now, that _is_ odd." He gave Spock a wry smile. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at Kirk.

Chekov called out, "Entering standard orbit around Titan V. Scanning for survivors and energy signals." Uhura shook her head in negation at Kirk. No communication signal. Spock called up sensor readings at his science station and said, "Captain, there is a human biosign on the surface. It is within the dense cluster of ruins on the edge of the north-eastern seabed, near a passive energy sign. But it is faint." Kirk grunted and called for Dr. Leonard McCoy to meet Spock, Chekov and himself at the main transporter room.

* * *

The hum of Federation transporters filled a dark stone chamber. Pillars of light briefly lit the chamber, adding to the faint sunlight streaming through the larger of the two doorways facing each other. They coalesced into humanoid forms before dissolving to reveal the _Enterprise_'s away team. Dr. McCoy coughed in the dust. "Damn transporters. Never liked 'em. Always dropping you into surprise environments no matter what the ship sensors say." He whipped out his medical tricorder and began to wave it around himself. 

Spock was likewise holding out a science tricorder to scan the chamber and beyond. "Perhaps you wish to remain on the Enterprise and endure no surprises."

McCoy snorted. "There are always surprises on the Enterprise. I mean, just look at what happened over the past few weeks! Gorkon and Romulan ale, General Chang, Valeris and so on! This is actually quite relaxing for a change!"

Kirk's look at McCoy was a good-natured admonishment. "Anything?" The medical tricorder chirped. "Yes. The biosign's deeper inside this building. Still faint. We must go." Kirk nodded and called Chekov from the larger doorway before walking through the opposite smaller doorway. Spock was the first to go through the door, but inexplicably, he stopped in his tracks. Kirk nearly bumped into his shoulder and stepped around him. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, his mouth opened wider and wider.

The inner chamber was huge. Huge like one of the old European Gothic cathedrals. And it was filled with plinths supporting objects. The objects appear to be alien exotic artifacts. Tiny holes in the ceiling and high in the walls let in beams of sunlight to shine upon most of the objects. McCoy was staring at it all as well. "An alien museum..."

"Makes me think of the Hermitage Palace Museum back home in St. Petersburg," Chekov chimed in. "Russian museums are the best on Earth, but this takes the cake."

Spock shone his flashlight on a particular object. It was a large statue of stone and metal, inlaid with unknown gemstones. The statue had Vulcanoid male and female features, holding a rod. "T'nanna, deity of love and death revered in the Vulcan Empire of T'Kalasa before the time of Surak."

McCoy made a face of disgust. "Love and death. Lovely." The group cautiously walked down the apse of the ancient museum. Many of the artifacts were from worlds recognizable by the group, while others were utterly alien. One of the artifacts was a transparent globe that contained a golden glow. The light inside the globe took on forms that McCoy thought were from an overactive imagination. He also hoped that the eerie sounds of the globe just below the human range of hearing were from his imagination. It was too small and too transparent to have come from planet Arret. He muttered, "I wouldn't be surprised if that came from Dante's desk."

Chekov, taking point for the away team, found some modern tools at the end of the hall. "Federation tools. At least they are not part of the exhibit." Kirk nodded in agreement and peered through the open doorway in which the tools were scattered. Upon entering the darkness beyond, they finally heard a moan. The team hurried to light up the chamber with their flashlights. Kirk's eyes widened in surprise. He knew the woman lying on the floor, even if her face was on the floor hidden by her dirty blonde locks.

Kirk ran over to the woman dressed in a uniform patterned in white and violet over a pair of black pants. Getting down on one knee, he turned the woman over onto her back. Spock and Chekov raised their eyebrows. Dr. McCoy breathed, "Oh dear. More surprises. Gotta stock on Cordrazine for our hearts."

It was Dr. Gillian Taylor, formerly of 20th century San Francisco, California, Earth.


	3. Falling Into the Looking Glass

_Losira and the Kalandan outpost refers to the TOS episode That Which Survives. Hope you can catch other references. Enjoy!_

* * *

Dr. Gillian Taylor appeared unhurt, yet she was unconscious. Her eyes seemed to be moving a lot under the eyelids.

"REM sleep," McCoy offered. He took out a hypospray from his medkit case, chose a vial of liquid and stuck it into the hypospray. Touching the hypospray to Gillian's neck, a hiss signaled its function.

Gillian's eyes soon fluttered open as McCoy's stimulant coursed its way through her system. Kirk said, "Dr. Taylor? Gillian, are you all right?" The sound of his voice finally pulled the 20th century marine biologist fully to the waking world out of the dream she was having. "James? Is that you?" She was mildly surprised to see him kneeling on Titan V over her. She smiled. "I told you. I would see you sometime." She put a hand on her head, brushing back her dark blonde curls. Her head was pounding, signaling the arrival of a headache. Finding her hair dirty from lying on the floor, she stood up, trying to regain dignity.

Suddenly, memory flooded back into her mind. "Oh God! The ship!" Kirk took strong hold of her shoulders and gently shook her. "Gill! Gill, please calm down. Please tell us what happened."

Memory was still playing in Gillian's mind as she took a breath, pushing away the last tendrils of the disturbing dream. What was the dream? It was disturbing, but never mind, there are more important things to do.

"All right...all right. We came into this system and began work in the ruins. In the digs, we found this museum. From what we could tell, the race that built this museum did not have any empire. They only raided and attacked many worlds for plunder and collecting artifacts important to these worlds. Rkar N'ra is only one of the few worlds that they actually occupied."

"Rekar Ni—...?" Kirk asked, unable to wrap his tongue around the alien name. Gillian chuckled at his poor attempt.

"Rkar N'ra. Dr. John Howard found the name for Titan V among the writings. Anyway, we returned to the ship for a celebration of our find. I'm not much for official gatherings, you know. I wanted to go back to the surface to collect more information on alien marine life. This museum certainly has lots of that." Gillian smiled, sharing memories of Earth with Kirk. "I just got on the transporter pad when the ship began shaking. The technician already began the transport. It was just luck that saved me. Next thing I remember is waking up here. Now. Do you know what happened to the _Hakudo Maru_?"

Chekov shook his head. "Ve do not know. It's not there anymore. No debris, so it wasn't destroyed," he added at the chagrined look on Gillian's face. Spock stepped forward. There was still one more concern. "Captain, the energy source is still registering." Kirk nodded and asked if Gillian needed to get on the Enterprise. The marine biologist straightened and told him that she would be fine. The group moved further into the darkness.  
  
They kept going deeper and further down into the planet's surface. Occasionally, the downward sloping hall would be interrupted by open doorways into yet more rooms full of artifacts. The group was finally stopped by a closed door.

Gillian said, "We weren't able to open that door. Dr. Howard kept moaning about being careful about opening it." She rolled her eyes.

A phaser blast smashed through the stone door. Startled, Gillian turned around to the source of the phaser. It was Kirk, holding a phaser and smirking. "Now we have no reason to be careful." Gillian narrowed her eyes at him sardonically. "Still the same offhand man I kicked out of the Maritime Cetacean Institute."

"Hey, you better look at this," McCoy called out. The room behind the door was not as big as the main exhibition chamber, but it was big enough to contain a hundred cryogenic containers.

Spock was as close to excited as a Vulcan could be, which meant only stepping through the broken door and waving his tricorder over everything. Gillian gasped at the sight, while Chekov quickly followed Spock, quietly cursing the eager Vulcan for neglecting security concerns under his breath. Dr. McCoy was also pointing his medical tricorder at each standing frozen coffin. "The physiology is unknown in the Federation medical database. Somewhere between insectoid and reptilian."

Spock tilted his head. He could hear an odd noise, just low enough for human ears not to hear, a soft pulsing. He noticed that the time between the pulses had been getting slightly shorter and shorter. A timer, obviously. It did not take much logic to connect the pulsing timer to the cryogenic containers. He turned to Gillian. "Dr. Taylor, did the writings your teams discovered mention this?"

"Umm, not really. Only that Rkar N'ra has guardians. But we thought it was just some sort of mythology. Not my thing." She screwed her face, trying hard to remember. "'_Kam'Jahtae maintains eternal watch for the Return._' That was how T'Sara translated the phrase. Seems Kam'Jahtae meant 'we who defend'." Gillian glanced at the cryogenic containers nervously. The soft pulses had finally begun to register in the humans' ears.

McCoy said, "Wanna bet that the aliens in those iceboxes are these...Kam'Jahtae?" Spock was calculating the timer in his tricorder and mind. "The timer began 5 hours and 16 minutes ago, which is approximately the time that the distress signal from the Hakudo Maru ceased."

The humans stared at the cryogenic containers. All, except Gillian, were feeling a déjà vu coming up. The memory pressing into their minds was that of the ancient Kalandan outpost and the deadly replicas of Losira. Kirk's communicator chirped for attention. The captain took it out of his belt and opened it. Uhura's voice floated out of it.

"Captain Kirk, we're detecting a spatial distortion. It looks like a cloak, but it's no cloak that we're familiar with. If readings are accurate, it's too small to be the _Hakudo Maru_." Kirk grunted. He did not want another incident like at the Kalandan outpost. This particular adventure may be too much for his tastes. Perhaps it was best not to disturb these containers in any way. It was time for them to leave. "Thank you, Commander. Go to yellow alert. Kirk out." He turned a dial on the communicator, cutting off the link to Uhura and opening another. "_Enterprise_, five to beam up."

The group stood closer together for the transport. As the motes of light appeared and spread around each of them, Gillian Taylor looked at the cryogenic containers. The tingle rapidly spread all over her body and blue-white light began to cloud her vision. But something was wrong. The light began to flicker, occasionally clearing and clouding her vision. Someone on the Enterprise must have noticed the problem, because the transporter hum suddenly grew more powerful and the light finally completely covered her vision. There was the moment that she felt like she blinked before the light dissolved to reveal the Enterprise's transporter room and the transport technician looking like she just took the final exam at Starfleet Academy.  
  
Meanwhile, the machinery in the cryogenic chamber had gained a lot more power than before and the pulsing timer accelerated.  
  
The group practically burst out of the turbolift onto the starship's bridge. Gillian and McCoy took up their positions beside Kirk's command chair. All of them could see an area of space distorting itself in the main viewer. It looked like an Aurora Borealis, except it was all space and stars. Spock announced his science sensor readings to the bridge. "It is not a cloak in the conventional sense. It is a...fold in space. Intriguing. The Vulcan Science Directorate has been trying to achieve foldspace technology in tandem with the Transwarp Experiment. With it, we could achieve transilience—a starship that is in one place and then in another thousands of light-years away in a single moment. Since we do not yet have the transpatial technology it requires, attempts at foldspace has failed. Sufficient to say, this particular fold is hiding an object."

Alerted, Kirk looked at Spock closely. "A ship?"

"Unknown."

"Keptin," Chekov called from his station. The bridge crew turned to watch the main viwer. The spatial distortion increased exponentially until finally, an object appeared out of the miasma. The object did not move. Rather, the distortion withdrew itself into nothingness. The object looked to be a cylinder of crafted stone. It reminded Kirk of the whale probe that dangerously contacted Earth seven years ago, except it was a little smaller than the _Enterprise_'sengineering hull and had a dull golden color with parallel lines of green symbols inlaid into it. The inlays appear to be of a different material than the cylinder.

Chekov gasped at the readings he was getting. "Keptin Kirk, these symbols are organic!"

"Indeed," concurred Spock. "Bioorganic technology crafted into stone. The sensors are reading a different energy signature in each of the inlays."

Kirk turned at a noise from Gillian who turned widened eyes at him. "James, the ancient writings that Dr. Howard and T'Sara talked about told of this kind of device. Too much of the writings were too damaged for us to read, but an alien race called the Sevo was responsible for this technology. A Sevo scientist named Lekkar was forced to refine the technology for his masters. Oh, James." Gillian gazed deeply into Kirk's eyes. "My main interest is marine biology, especially whales. But I share the American obsession for technology. I have to, since I lived near Silicon Valley. Federation science would love to get its hands on this device!"

Kirk had to agree, although he still had the misgivings he got in the ancient cryochamber on Titan V and from his experiences with advanced alien technology. This calls for caution. He ordered the starship's sensors to increase power and extend deep into the device.

The _Enterprise_'s sensors touched the device and the inlaid symbols on the device glowed. The lights on the bridge dimmed a little. Kirk looked at Spock for explanation. "The device is using our sensors to gain power from us. I cannot deactivate the sensors...I recommend backing _Enterprise_ away from the device. Greater distance from it would weaken its hold on the sensors and our power."

The inlaid symbols on the device shimmered and flickered. Chekov said, "Keptin, something's happening..."

The universe flickered.  
  
Kirk ran through the forest, panting and sweating in the cold darkness of night. He could hear the running footsteps of the colony soldiers behind him, chasing him. Voices shouted after him, one of which was clear enough for him to hear. "The boy's escaping! He can't tell the Vulcans what happened here!"

Laser beams and bolts flashed through the dark forest, adding their brilliance to the glow of the fire burning in a clearing far behind. Young Kirk sobbed at the all too fresh memory of executed bodies falling into a pit. He stumbled. To avoid falling and getting hurt, he jumped over a fallen tree trunk. He screamed as a laser bolt found its mark in his back. Kirk fell in pain to the ground, hitting his face on a broken branch. He bit his lower lips, tearing holes in it. As blood filled his mouth, the 13 years old boy glanced up at the night sky through the tree tops. Darkness filled his mind, erasing Kirk's existence even as the lights of a Vulcan relief ship shone upon Tarsus IV.

Flicker

The _Enterprise_ lurched. Kirk struggled to keep himself in the command chair, dimly aware of Spock's voice. "This is not..."

The light of the ancient device flooded the bridge, whitewashing the whole world. Titan V and its sun appeared to be leaving, shrinking in the light.

Flicker  
  
Kirk set down the tray holding the breakfast of toast and Ktarian eggs with dillweed on his love's lap in bed. The most beautiful woman in his heart smiled up at him from the bed. She lifted a small silver dome from the butter plate and gasped. Instead of the butter for her toast, there was a ring. Kirk grinned foolishly.

"Antonia, will you marry me?"

Kirk was happy after he married Antonia in 2284, repudiating Starfleet. News from the world outside his cabin was always troubling, but not enough to distract him from his happiness with Antonia. There was the one time that news came that Khan Noonian Singh hijacked the USS _Reliant_ and murdered hundreds before a Starfleet task force commanded by Captain Spock destroyed the _Reliant_. Kirk felt responsible for Khan's deprecation inflicted upon the Federation, but Antonia comforted him.

When the whale probe reached Earth, the weather became violent, too violent for the cabin to withstand. Antonia died as Kirk lost two fingers from his left hand. One of these fingers held the wedding band given by Antonia at the wedding. He fell into depression and sat for long hours by her hastily made grave, letting the hard rain wash the mud from his gray-flecked hair. The land shook from the thunder lashing down from the sky, a sign of the alien probe's wrath. He refused to look up when he heard a different kind of roar overcoming the storm's cacophony. He still did not look up from Antonia's muddy grave when a flash flood took him and broke him as Earth died.

Flicker  
  
The world began to waver, and Kirk fought to keep the dizziness at bay. Spock's voice trembling, "...logical. We must..."

The light raged. Flicker  
  
Dr. McCoy tried to console Kirk when David Marcus and Spock died. But he was shaken as well by Spock's second death on the Genesis Planet. Kirk soon gained a dark reputation as a man of violent moods even as his service to Starfleet continued to be valuable. It was therefore not difficult for him to join the conspiracy when Praxis exploded and Chancellor Gorkon sued for peace with the Federation. He was thrilled at the death of Gorkon. The death of every Klingon thrilled him even if it did not bring back either his son or his best friend. When President Androvar Drake was assassinated by an admiral disguised as a Klingon at Khitomer, the Federation had the pretext to declare war on the Klingon Imperial Empire and to take Chancellor Azetbur prisoner.

With Praxis gone, it was only a matter of time before the Federation won the war. But Starfleet Command did not reckon on the Klingons' fanatic spirit of fighting for the very survival of their empire and people, nor did it reckon with General Chang's new cloaking device so that Klingon ships were now able to fire upon Federation starships while still cloaked. The resources of the Federation were almost totally drained before Kirk led a thousand starships across the old Klingon border and dealt the killing blow to the Klingon Imperial Empire. During the war, sometimes Kirk had the odd sensation that this was not the way things were supposed to happen.

Just as peace returned to the known galaxy and Starfleet set about to rebuild and to incorporate the fallen Klingon worlds into the Federation, the Romulans struck.

Hatred of the Klingons had blinded Kirk and he paid for it in still more blood. The wars with the Klingons and the Romulans left gutted starships and gutted worlds in their wake. Through the light-years of the Federation, he fought and fell back before Romulan warbirds equipped with the new Klingon cloaking technology, while all kinds of ships full of refugees flooded the heart of the Federation. The remnants of the Klingon Empire joined the Romulans in this war, slavering for vengeance, not caring that it meant Romulans ruling their fallen empire. He watched as the Romulans burned Andoria and Tellar from orbit. He raged when Vulcan declared its neutrality in the war. Admiral Kirk decided to make his stand at the Mars Defense Perimeter when the Romulans and Klingons gutted the fleet at Wolf 359. He vowed that he would not leave Earth to the mercies of the enemy so long as he lived, so what was left of Starfleet prepared to defend the human homeworld and its first extraterrestrial colony while the people still ran to other worlds.

Even as phasers, disruptors and torpedoes made their deadly dance over the skies of Mars, and the _Enterprise-B_ shook under his feet, Admiral Kirk once again felt that the universe took a wrong turn somewhere. He had to suppress that feeling for there were too many of the enemy to fight. Finally, a disruptor beam tore through the _Enterprise_'s shields and ripped the roof of the bridge off of the once pristine starship. Hurtling out into the cold of space, broken, his blood boiling, Admiral James Tiberius Kirk died amid the fires of heaven.

Flicker  
  
Kirk struggled to remain sane as the _Enterprise_ shuddered under the hammer blows of gods shifting through the possible universes. He fought to hold onto his command chair, using it as an anchor for his sanity. He thought he saw a starbase sweep past the main viewer, but he dismissed it as part of the insanity.

"...leave here!" Spock screamed, his Vulcan self-control almost completely shot.

Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Flicker.  
  
Kirk was a Starfleet marine. He was a rancher. He was a beggar, and a dictator. He was Emperor Tiberius of the Terran Empire. He was farmer, actor, assassin for hire, diplomat, president, spy, slave. He was born, lived, and died a woman. He died still in Dr. Janice Lester's body. He died mad, he died rotting, he died of sickness, accident, age, murder. He fought Cardassians. He fought beside a Starfleet captain from the future against a madman bent on destroying stars. He was abducted and lay under huge black eyes in a room full of shadows and silver lights. He winced as screams impossibly cut through the vacuum of space. He ran from his destiny, he forced his destiny, he embraced his destiny. He lived and died never knowing. A secret agency called Section 31 recruited him. Aliens with machines grafted into them made Kirk one of them. Section 31 interrogated him to the point of death and madness. He tortured many people. Carol Marcus married him and gave him a son named David Marcus Kirk. Janice Rand, with tears in her eyes, pointed a phaser at him and fired, and he thanked her as he died. He saved Edith Keeler and condemned Earth to a dark future. He loved other women, married other women, and women he had never seen before he lived those lives, one of whom appeared to be a Romulan-Klingon hybrid. Even a few men. Hundreds of lives. So many he could not count them. And at the end of each life, he died. He died with regrets. He died with no regrets. McCoy failing to save him countless times. Screams cutting through the void of night, screams cutting into the mind. The screaming laughter of a mad emperor as he was killed. He so desperately wanted to get away from all of that and he could tell that his crew shared the same sentiment.

Flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker....

Abruptly, the light cleared and everything appeared peculiarly dim. Somehow, Kirk knew that it wasn't his eyes. It was a darkening and squeezing shut of everything around him, as if he was closing his eyes to sneeze. As if the universe was closing its eyes to sneeze.

The universe sneezed.


	4. First Contacts

_"S/he" and "hir" are my attempt at applying subject nouns to hermaphroditic people._

_The timetable for the universes has been accelerated, as you will see. Enjoy!_

* * *

Kirk finally fell out of his chair. The fall would have knocked the breath out of him if he was not already half numb. He felt the shock-absorbent carpet of his beloved starship. So they were still in one piece, as far as he could tell.

Spock was struggling from his back onto his hands and knees. Kirk heard someone vomit roughly, and he looked up. Chekov was on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was looking around as if he wanted to run away. Everyone was down. Uhura was sprawled on the floor, wide-eyed and stunned. The helmsman, Ensign Redpath, gripped his console so hard, his knuckles threatened to break, staring at nothing. Dr. McCoy was huddled in a ball, weeping openly; Gillian's fingers were digging into her tear- streaked face. Red scratch marks followed the paths of her tears as if she wanted to rip away whatever she saw or even rip out her eyes for seeing it.

Kirk swallowed, pushing his vertigo down. "Wha...what happened?"

Spock stood up and appeared to force control back on himself with a shiver, as the lights came back on full power on the Enterprise. "We apparently experienced a surge of power relating to the alien device. It...pushed us somewhere. It is...a miracle, as you may call it, that we weren't destroyed by that much power. I wonder how the ancient owners could use the device without such a drastic experience."

The intraship communication system chirped for attention. "Bridge, this is Scotty. What's goin' on? What happened? Whatever you did, please do na do it again. The poor ship canna take it again, damaged as she still is." Kirk pulled himself back into the command chair and spoke. "Acknowledged. I don't know. We're trying to figure it out." He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the burgundy sleeve of his uniform and turned to Spock, grabbing onto his arm. Kirk drew strength from the touch.

"Spock..." Kirk breathed to clear his head. "Spock, I lived...I...I lived and died...I don't know how many times. Each life was different, but it was me....My God, it was _me_."

Spock shuddered, something that Kirk had never seen in his best friend before. "Perhaps the device was the epitome of the Theory of Quantum Mechanics in action. For each action we make, there is an opposing action that we have not made. Logic does not dismiss the possibility that we could have had different lives. Different lives for the different ways things might have happened. Most fascinating." Those other lives had opened Spock's eyes to the possible turns his life could have taken.

Kirk nodded, seeing the logic of it. Federation science had barely scratched the surface of Quantum Mechanics. But he would have preferred the experience to have been as mundane as a transporter accident, like when he stumbled into the Terran Empire universe. The important thing is they were all alive and well.

The Terran Empire. That jogged the memory of his life as Emperor Tiberius. He had never wanted to visit that horrible barbaric universe again. Irrational fear began to rise in his guts and he had to suppress it.

"Where are we?" he demanded. The vista of the stars seemed to be different. Titan V and its sun were gone. He found himself pleading that they would encounter no Imperials. "Uhura, shut off the ship's automated subspace beacon." He went to straighten Gillian Taylor, as the Kenyan woman dragged herself to her console, still a little shell-shocked, and followed her captain's command. Gillian started at his touch and stared at him. She grabbed Kirk's proffered hand. "James...I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was only concerned about the whales George and Gracie. I didn't mean to force you to take me into the future." Gillian's eyes widened in fright. "I know that if I had stayed back in 1986, I would have seen the Terror War, maybe even the Third World War after that." When she read of _that_ period in Earth's history, she'd never imagined that the United States would change so much. She was never an American patriot. Marine biology always gained her attention the most. And taxes, of course. Thank God, the Federation doesn't have taxes. She, along with millions of fellow citizens, had thought that they knew better than to allow their nation to change that far. Yet it had, perhaps _because_ of that self-assured knowledge. "The twenty-third century is wonderful...but...it's not right for me stuff myself down your throats." Kirk smiled soothingly. "Gill, it's all right. We have plenty of room in the Federation for you. In the past nine years, you've done well. For example, you've helped reseed Earth's oceans with an extinct species. How many other people could say that?" Gillian smiled, though her eyes were still wet. "You're right, James. You're right."

Kirk then turned to say, "Bones, you all right?" McCoy curtly nodded once. "Jim, I have to be in sickbay. There would be long lines of people waiting for psychological solutions by now." McCoy shuddered and went into the turbolift.

Chekov was composed enough to check his readings, while an ensign discreetly cleaned the mess he left on the floor. He looked confused and checked once more. "Keptin, the stars are not where they are supposed to be." Kirk quickly went to stand over Chekov's shoulder. He watched as the Russian tinkered his console. "Jim...judging by the stellar drift, we have been thrown 34 years back in the past."

"Intriguing," Spock said. "Not only interspatial travel, but time travel as well." So they were now in a time before Kirk took command of the Enterprise and was still serving on the USS _Farragut_. It would be interesting to meet himself, as long as this was not the Imperial universe he dreaded.

Chekov almost gasped. "We are in the Neutral Zone!"

Alarm swept through the entire bridge crew. Even Gillian Taylor knew how serious that was. In the universe Kirk knew, the Neutral Zone had not been violated by any vessel until the Romulan sneak attack on Federation outposts in 2266, seven years in the future. He certainly did not want to be responsible for a premature interstellar incident. Slightly intimidated by the alarm that his announcement had generated, Chekov added quietly, "In approximately one minute, we will drift straight into Romulan space. We are 1.8 light-years from the Romulan star system of Tranome Sar, to be exact."

Uhura had been listening on the subspace bands. "Captain, there's nothing in subspace. It's quiet. Usually, there's subspace static to indicate use by other races, but all I hear is a very low murmur. There are no buoys to indicate either Federation or Romulan territory."

Stunned, the bridge crew turned to stare at Uhura. Spock had noticed the same thing on long-range sensors. "Indeed. There are no outposts on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone, nor is there any on the Romulan side. Starbase 10 is gone. Essentially, there is no Romulan Neutral Zone."

"What?" Kirk said in shock. His nervousness about being in this universe increased. He remembered from reading the other _Enterprise_'s history database that Earth did not stop at the Battle of Cheron in the Earth-Romulan War. Rather, Earth, Vulcan and Andoria continued to pound the Romulans into submission to the Empire with "clean" atomics. It stands to reason that there would be no Neutral Zone. But what about the lack of subspace activity? That didn't make sense. Perhaps this universe is not the Imperial universe he had been dreading after all.

Chekov reported, "Long range sensors are detecting activity in the Tranome Sar System. Ships of some kind."

The captain nodded knowingly. "Before the Romulans conquered that system, it was Zeta Reticuli, home to the Reticulans. Perhaps they have answers. Mr. Redpath, set course for Tranome Sar...Zeta Reticuli, whichever it is around here. Warp 4."

The field of stars was punctuated by two particularly bright stars. The binary star system of Zeta Reticuli, although it was essentially two complete star systems orbiting each other closely. Into this neighborhood dropped the Enterprise out of warp. 

Gillian Taylor gazed upon the vista of stars and the faint wisps of nebulae through the windows of the quarters given her. Memories of the transition into this universe were fading. There were too many for her to remember, but enough was retained for her to ponder. Many had shown her staying behind on Earth as Kirk returned to his time, and many had shown her in the twenty-third century, witnessing wonders and terrors of the universe. Very few, thankfully few, matched what little she could still remember of her dream back on Titan V. _A hauntingly beautiful woman, her features still blurred as if through a mirror, or window, covered with water, and hints of odd silently screaming and twisting faces creating a nimbus around the woman. She felt that she should recognize the woman, but the woman also felt totally foreign._ Gillian shivered. It was just a dream. A confusing dream, but still just in her mind. The twin bright yellow stars tugged at her eyes.

"Scan the system," ordered Captain Kirk. "Bring us at half impulse to the fourth planet of Zeta 2 Reticuli. It should still be their homeworld around here." It was a potential first-contact situation. It also felt odd to be cruising in what should be Romulan space without worrying about Romulans appearing out of nowhere and shooting before asking why he was on the wrong side of the Neutral Zone. This was, for now, unknown territory and ideal for Starfleet's objective of exploration. 

Uhura reported, "Captain, there is still no subspace communication." She never felt more frustrated than now. She was tempted to employ the very untechnological technique of hitting her console with her fists. She continued, "But there's a lot of tachyon activity. It could be what's blocking communications."

Spock's logic allowed him a leap of realization, as close as he could get to what humans call 'hunches.' "The tachyon activity appears to be artificial, therefore logic dictates that this universe uses tachyon for communications. We should change frequencies to receive tachyon communications." Spock adjusted his scanners a bit more to get a clearer long-range reading. "Vessels in the star system do not match anything in the Federation database, although there are similarities to pre-Federation records, especially government files from one of Earth's ancient nation-states."

The bridge crew was startled by an alarm klaxon. Chekov almost shouted, "Proximity alarm! Alien buoys just activated...Sir, we're being scanned."

"Yellow alert. All stop. Keep scanning. Convert frequencies to tachyon communications on the double!" ordered Captain Kirk.

"Sir!" Chekov shouted. "Spatial anomaly forming. Unknown properties, but it appears to be a vortex."

"Onscreen!"

A swirling blue vortex tore out of the fabric of space, looking for all the world like a wormhole. A star appeared to flash in the dark maw of the vortex and a gray and blue saucer-shaped vessel quickly slipped out into normal space. The vortex collapsed on itself behind the vessel. It was huge, nearly 200 meters longer than the Enterprise and had a much greater mass than the Federation starship. Kirk wouldn't like taking his damaged starship against such a vessel in battle.

Uhura had been hastily converting the starship's subspace communicator, so she was startled when the communication device in her ear crackled. "Sir, we're being hailed on tachyon." She glanced at Spock. So he was right, as usual. "Audio only. Communications are not calibrated enough for tachyon visuals." She pressed a button to put the hail on speakers. The universal translator struggled for a while until it finally got the alien language translated.

"I am Hachee, Starmaster of the Vree Merchant-Adventurer Guild ship _Valifee_. Identify yourself and state your intentions in the Vree homesystem."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. Kirk noticed it, too. Emotion. The alien sounded tense, nervous and suspicious. The Reticulans that the captain knew were supposed to be emotionless. Not unemotional like the Vulcans, but truly devoid of emotions. Although he heard of a few who were emotion junkies, forcing a victim to feel intense pleasure or pain so that the Reticulan could draw the victim's emotion into himself like a drug. This universe still has its familiarities, yet there were differences. It was disturbing. Kirk signaled Uhura for the answer hail.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship _Enterprise_. We are here only to explore and contact new worlds."

"James Kirk? Enterprise? Those are Earther names. What are you really here for? And where did you get your ship?" The suspicion in the alien voice increased exponentially. The entire crew was startled. It was too much to hope for, but Earth exists in this universe as well! "Keptin!" Chekov's voice almost shook. "Alien wessel is arming weapons. Antimatter weapons."

Kirk pounded on a communication button. "Scotty! We may need all available power to the shields." The Scottish voice answered in the affirmative. The captain turned his attention back to the Vree ship. "Hachee, we come from the United Federation of Planets. Have you heard of it?"

"Earther, is this a trick? A joke? I understand that Earthers are fond of humor, but these are trying times. I've never heard of your...'Federation'. We may ask the Minbari about that. The closest is the League of Non-Aligned Worlds, of which the Ventuki Conglomerate is a member." It was clearly a warning. A sigh could be heard. "This is old information you should know. Where is your mothership? You are too small to have jumpengines."

A wealth of information was in the Vree's response, yet it was not as helpful as Kirk would like. If they thought the Enterprise was too small to be an interstellar vessel, he wondered just how big this universe's starships were. "We do not have a mothership. Tell me...of what organization is Earth a part?"

Soft laughter rang out of the speakers. Laughter! Laughter from an alien that was supposed to be Reticulan. It was hard to let go of preconceptions. "What strange humor you Earthers have. Very well, I'll play along. It would make these times a little less trying for me. The Earth Alliance is the organization you want. Do you want me to point the way? Though I wouldn't recommend it." The Vree still sounded suspicious.

Kirk still did not understand. 'Earth Alliance' sounds like their version of the Federation, but this alien didn't seem too fond of humans, or 'Earthers' as he called them. In his universe, the term was derogatory, but the Vree doesn't seem to mean it as an insult. "Thank you, no. Do you have territorial star maps I could see?"

Hachee was puzzled. The Earther's behavior was too odd. Was it a delaying tactic? S/he turned to hir fellow Vree on the Xill-class saucer _Valifee_, waving an elongated hand over a glowing symbol to mute the audio connection. "Keep the scanners strong. They could be Raiders or mercenaries for the Centauri and could be waiting for other ships to arrive. Kamahi, what think you of this?" 

Hir second officer turned his black eyes away from the glowing holographic instruments. "I know not what the Earthers are trying to do. Either they are insane or they are sincere. Sincerity about insanity or ignorance...is there a difference? I truly know not." Kamahi laughed. "Their ship does not match anything in our records. They could have stolen it from an unknown alien race, they could have actually built it themselves. Earther script is on it, as you can see. The energy in their ship is unfamiliar, but it contains a lot of power. Maybe enough power to open a jumppoint of their own, in spite of their size." A new symbol glowed into existence in Kamahi's holographic instruments. "Antimatter is detected." Hachee moved hir head slightly back and widened hir black eyes, to show hir surprise. Raiders, although voracious, could never afford the resources for that kind of engine. Kamahi waved a hand over a glowing symbol and a hologram of the Federation starship solidified in the center of the command chamber. Tiny symbols washed over specific areas on it, swirling in shapes of flames. "They appear to have endured damages in a battle...but their ship construction is too fragile for it to be a true warship. It may account for their inability to have visuals. Their translation protocols, however, _is_ very good, even if we had trouble making our communicator compatible with their odd technology." S/he glanced at the viewscreen showing the scarred alien vessel hanging in the starscape and turned back to the scanning hologram, wondering if humans could be as slippery as the Centauri. "If they want star maps, then they should buy them. It _is_ a rare chance for us to actually sell for a profit something that everyone else has." Tinkling laughter poured from Kamahi's small mouth. It was too much of a joke. S/he silently vowed to visit one of Albendazel's temples to show hir appreciation once s/he returns to Vreetan. "But take care, Starmaster Hachee. It is a time of war, even if we are not involved. Yet." War was not the only reason for the Vree's tension. Recently, a form of darkness had fallen across the skies of the Vree worlds and, as far as they knew, the nearer alien worlds as well. The darkness had swallowed the stars in unnatural night only seconds after the air and ground rippled in waves. Ship crews reported similar ripples. It was as if reality itself had gone mad for a few seconds.

Hachee inclined hir head in agreement. Hir eyes reflected Kamahi's memory of that momentary reality dysfunction. S/he waved a hand over another symbol, reactivating the communication link. The Earthers must be getting impatient by now. It is never good to push a human's patience too far. Earther impatience had saved the League worlds from the Dilgar, but it also nearly destroyed humanity in the Earth-Minbari War.

"Captain...Kirk, is it? We have star maps you might like. But they are not free. What can you offer in currency or trade?" 

Captain Kirk leaned forward, thinking hard. The Enterprise didn't carry much in the way of currency. Gillian may know something about that, but he doubted that ancient American money would satisfy the Vree. Gold should be one of the universal constants, but nearly all the gold on the starship was needed as part of components. Scratch the gold. An exchange of information? Since there is probably no way to return to the home universe, the Vree could not use the information. He didn't want to accept the possibility that he may not be able to return home, but the Vree didn't know that. "Starmaster Hachee, would an exchange of information satisfy you? A trade of star maps?"

"We may need something more than merely star maps." Something more. Kirk came to a decision. "We come from another universe, so our star maps should be more than adequate. We can also offer information about your own people in our universe."

Hachee, at first, would have called this human one of the biggest liars s/he'd ever met. But this ship was not in any of the records that the _Valife_e had on hand, and it may account for the initial communication incompatibility. S/he cautiously responded, "Captain Kirk, that would be...acceptable. Please send your information. We will verify its value before sending our star charts to you." Hachee waved a hand over a glowing symbol, causing it to fade and sink out of sight into the holographic console. By now, the strange ship would know that the Vree weapons were powering down. S/he hoped it wasn't a trap. After four minutes of Vree verification, Uhura nodded once, signaling the reception of the Vree star charts. Kirk smiled at the ease of this particular first contact situation. "Ok, we have charts to look over." This couldn't have gone better than he hoped. What an unimaginable chance for exploration and first contacts! Hachee was dumbfounded. They had to be telling the truth. Otherwise, they couldn't have put in this much detail. Vreetan and its colonies ruled by a 'Romulan Star Empire' with one major outpost in 'Federation' space! And the Vree in that universe had no emotion or even a concept of humor! Horrifying. It is abundantly fortunate that Albendazel came to Vreetan and introduced humor to Hachee's people. "Kamahi, send this information to the Guild Grandmaster at Photikar and to Ambassador Zilchah."

* * *

**Somewhere at the Rim  
**  
Laurel Takashima's nerves were still slightly rattled. Protecting the construction of a jumpgate at the Rim was not exactly what she'd call exciting. However, just hours ago, the air rippled in waves and she thought she saw the stars themselves darken. A starless universe for only a few seconds. But it was enough to inspire panic on the Earth ships in the system. The report was sent to Earth Central, so now she had to wait. Boredom, however previously unbearable, was blissful in its return. She leaned back into her chair. Well, she had to lean back, considering the seat harness holding her. She missed her stint on Babylon 5. Gravity, real food even if it was horrendously expensive, meeting aliens, real food rather than those bland freeze-dried rations, constant excitement, did she include real food in her list? She sighed, looking out the windows at the front of the bridge. The huge Explorer-class ship was hanging beside the trellis of the new jumpgate under construction.

Maybe she should not have fallen in with the wrong crowd at Babylon 5. Problem was...she couldn't avoid that crowd, not with what she had done on Mars. The problem finally gave up following her trail to the Rim.

The officer at the scanning post turned his head to Laurel and said, "Ma'am, unknown artificial object just entered the extreme range of our scanners." Laurel perked up. It was just what the doctor ordered for her boredom. At least it wasn't the brief madness. "Silhouette?"

The scan officer shook his head. "Not acquired yet. You don't suppose it's Raiders?" Raiders were hardly to be seen at the Rim, but then again, the reach of the Rim was far beyond the grasp of any military force in the known galaxy. "Move us to 5,000 klicks from the object. Inform the _DeSoto_ of this development and recommend that they scatter their furies for patrol."

"Aye, sir."

The Hyperion-class cruiser fired its engines just hard enough to give thrust to the lumbering ship, leaving the Explorer to its gate construction and temporary isolation. "Silhouette acquired!" the scanning officer shouted excitedly. "It's a ship. No match on file." Laurel grunted her acknowledgement. So far, the alien vessel was the only one in the star system beside the Earth crafts. They still had to be careful. The second planet in the system was rich in Quantium-40 and the fourth planet was barely habitable, just good enough for colonization without the expensive domes. It was possible some other alien race had claimed this system for that most valuable of all rare minerals. Well, the Earth Alliance got the first dip by building the needed jumpgate. Laurel raised her voice over the din of the engines. "This could be a first contact situation. Keep your eyes open." She squinted to see the shape of the silhouette on the scanner screen. It was an odd shape, definitely alien. A toothpick-shaped cylinder thrust through a circular construct, like a thread through the eye of a needle. The circle construct could indicate a centrifugal technology level on par with the Earth Alliance. They could handle this alien, then. 

"Send the standard first contact and Interlac protocols," Laurel ordered. Her eyes eagerly searched the stars in the bridge windows, hoping for a glimpse of the alien ship. The comm officer looked up from her computer screen. "Captain, they're not receiving our protocols. Either they're ignoring us or they're too alien to understand us."

Laurel frowned and glanced at Reza Malin, her XO. Or perhaps they were pissed that we stole their star system. "Scatter the furies," she ordered. Within seconds, she could see the pinpricks of six starfuries flying ahead of the ship to take up a defensive screen between the two ships.

"Sir, we're in visual range." The nav officer activated a large screen for a magnified viewing of the alien ship. Laurel's eyes widened. The alien ship's technology was definitely not on par with Earth. It had to be at least equal to that of the Centauri. The alien ship was entirely red, except for the windows and the glowing blue line outlining the ring around the ship. The ring was connected to the ship only by a tapering pylon at the bottom. She could not imagine the engineering and inertia problems _that_ would entail. It spoke of alien technologies and theories not mastered by Earth or many of the alien worlds that she knew of. The tapering stern was similar to those on the Centauri Primus-class battlecruisers, so it could mean the alien had gravitic technology. If this was a warship, it had too many windows in it. The elegant sleekness and simplicity of the alien ship appealed to her Japanese ethos. She turned to the scanner officer. "Weapons reading?"

"I'm not sure, but I think they have at least two missile tubes and three energy weapon ports. The power reading is off the charts for a ship of this size. Some kind of energy, probably their version of ECM, is interfering with twenty percent of my reading." The scanner officer stared at Laurel for further orders. The alien red ship was at least 430 meters shorter than the Hyperion cruiser that Laurel Takashima commands and it was terribly under-armed in comparison as well. But if it actually had that much power, Laurel had to be careful. A repeat of the Omega Incident or Captain Jankowski's mistake wouldn't do, especially with two of the Five Powers on the warpath.

"Sir! Erratic tachyon pulses!" the comm officer shouted. His anxiety relaxed a little after some scrutiny. "Either their tachyon relay is damaged or they don't have one and is using some other device for tachcomm." The comm officer reported activated a monitor. Laurel leaned forward as far as she could in her chair harness. She was momentarily glad that her hair was tied in a queue and loosely held at the nape of her neck by her uniform collar. She hated her long hair floating forward to obscure her vision in the micro-gravity environment of her ship. She felt a twinge of yearning for Babylon 5's and Mars' gravity. The communication screen snowed at first, then it flickered into an image that still had flickering arrows of malfunction shooting across it now and then.

At first, Laurel thought the image was of a human, but the illusion was quickly banished. It was clearly a woman, but her eyebrows slanted upward from above her nose and her ears tapered up to a point. Her olive skin had a faint green tint to it, so her skin color was that of an actual dark olive. Her black hair was a little too severe for Laurel's tastes and she appeared to have a calm self-assurance bordering on arrogance. It was disconcerting. The alien woman reminded Laurel too much of the Minbari and the extinct Dilgar all at once.

The alien's voice was at first garbled by static, but it soon cleared enough for her to hear. "Unidentified vessel, I am Director T'Sara..." The alien identified herself as if she was a queen. T'Sara's eyebrows drew in the most subtle frown Laurel Takashima had ever seen, and the frown was directed somewhere off- screen. "...Sub-Commander of the Federation research ship _Hakudo Maru_." Laurel was startled to hear a Japanese name given to the alien ship. She was again startled when she realized she was hearing English being spoken by this woman of a species she was sure Earth had never heard of before. She squinted to see if T'Sara's lips moved out of synch with the English words, indicating a sophisticated translator at work. Nope. This alien was actually speaking in English. "We...come in peace." There. A hesitation. Why? Laurel drew herself up straight. "I'm Laurel Takashima, Captain of the Earth Alliance ship _Brittany_. Please identify your species. Oh...and state your purpose for being here." She smiled. The alien woman had to know that her questions were backed by greater firepower at her disposal.

She could see the alien woman hesitate before speaking. The hesitation had a calculating feel to it. "I am a Vulcan from the planet Vulcan. Most of the people on this ship are not Vulcan. Some are Betazoids from the planet Betazed. Others on the ship are from other worlds in the Federation." Ah. A kind of very cooperative League of Worlds. Could mean trouble for Earth's claim over this star system. "Our...purpose is research. That point can be clarified in person, if you're willing to come visit us."

All in all, that was suspicious. Laurel was not an expert on alien facial expressions, but this T'Sara has not shown any emotion on her face except for that subtle frown directed off-screen. But her instincts were not raising red flags. So far. She glanced at her XO, Commander Malin, still harnessed into his chair. The Persian shook his head. He didn't want his commander to be in a situation that could potentially be a trap.

"T'Sara, can I come with guards?" If the alien refuses, Laurel would refuse as well to visit. It would then be an impasse.

"By all means, do. We would have offered an exchange of people, but our sensors show that your ship does not have its own gravity. Since we are not Starfleet-trained, we are not used to that kind of environment." Laurel and Malin raised their eyebrows in surprise. If their scanning equipment was that sensitive, combat may not be a good idea after all. She sighed. "OK, we're coming."

The Vulcan woman bowed her head serenely before signing off. How very Minbari.

Laurel Takashima had chosen to bring five guards along with her XO. The shuttle swept past the front part of the _Hakudo Maru_, affording them a close view of the elongated red main hull of the alien ship. The scanning officer had reported that the ECM vanished as soon as the shuttle departed the _Brittany_. The guard who doubled as the shuttle pilot reported that the shuttle was now under guidance by tractor beams. It was disconcerting and extremely uncomfortable to allow themselves to be taken control by an unknown alien race. Make that _races_, if what T'Sara claimed was true. The shuttle was brought around to the back of the tapering pylon of the _Hakudo Maru_, revealing one of the two shuttle bay doors opening to welcome them. When the shuttle was aligned with the open bay, Laurel stared dumbly. She could see three people standing in the open shuttle bay. And they weren't being blown out in space, either. As far as she knew, not even the Minbari could do that. 

When the shuttle went through the threshold of the bay, Laurel could see a nearly invisible blue force field faintly crackling at the shuttle's entrance. Suddenly, instead of feeling weightless, she could feel the almost wrenching pull of an Earth-normal gravity. Her stomach seized this chance to relax after such a long time of holding its content down in micro-gravity environment. She revised her opinion of the alien ship's level of technology. If this was just a research ship as T'Sara claimed, she wouldn't want to encounter a warship of this 'Federation.'

The shuttle landed with a gentle bump. Laurel, Malin and the guards took off their harnesses. The pilot-guard would stay to keep the shuttle secured and primed for departure, just in case. Upon exiting the shuttle, Laurel could see three other shuttles in the cavernous bay. Two of them were white boxy affairs, while the third was definitely a miniature and blunter copy of the _Hakudo Maru_, slightly larger than the Earth crew shuttle. She didn't have time to visually analyze everything. The three aliens were stepping forward. The one in the middle must be T'Sara. The Vulcan woman was a hand shorter than Laurel, but thin, almost gaunt, and walked rather easily. Her flowing robes were in earthy colors with gold script running vertically along the edge of an outer robe. She must be from a desert planet with a heavier gravity. It was still disconcerting. T'Sara's face reminded Laurel of the Dilgar while the graceful bearing was so like the Minbari. She hoped it didn't bode ill for future relations.

The other two people appeared to be humans. A man and a woman. The academic-looking man with the dark aquiline face and deep dark eyes that seem to see a little farther than ordinary eyes like an ocean sailor, had a pull...a magnetism. She knew that kind of man. She'd seen such men and women before. This man had the air of the more successful people within IPX, those capable of loosening purse strings to keep funds flowing into the bottomless maw of the past. Laurel took an instant dislike to the man, however foolish that was. The humanoid woman gazed at Laurel from the other side of T'Sara. Now her bearing was more like a queen than T'Sara. What struck Laurel were her eyes. Large eyes that look human except the fact that the iris was the same black as the pupil. She was not sure if the woman even had an iris. Reza Malin, judging by the way he stared at her, was also struck by the eyes. Attraction of beauty, apparently, was a constant among their species. Laurel came forward with a hand thrust out ahead of her.

"T'Sara, I presume," Laurel began. The Vulcan woman's eyes glanced at Laurel's outstretched hand almost as if it was a distasteful creature, and returned to the Earthforce officer. Laurel quickly pulled her hand back to her side, embarrassed. She should have bowed, thus avoiding a potential faux pas. She turned to her XO. "This is Commander Reza Malin, my executive officer. We are members of the Earth Alliance's military arm, Earthforce."

T'Sara bowed serenely to each Earthforce officer and raised a hand toward the black-eyed woman with the long dark hair full of ringlets. The Vulcan soft voice intoned, "Lady Neclauna Nore, Daughter of the Fourth House, Heir to the Blessed Books of Katara and Holder of the Sacred Scepter of Betazed." Great. A noblewoman. Neclauna smiled disarmingly, although she still held herself straight like a queen. Her eyes seem capable of peering into Laurel's soul, into her mind. Laurel couldn't put her finger on where she had seen that kind of look before. The Vulcan, her eyes carefully examining the Earthforce officers, continued. "And this is Dr. John Howard, Assistant Director, historian and archaeologist from the University of Cydonia on Mars."

Laurel Takashima started. Reza Malin sputtered, "Mars? Not...Mars, the fourth planet in the Solar System, Earth's first colony?" Dr. Howard gazed at Malin and nodded. This was crazy. This xenoarcheologist must have gone beyond the Rim by hitchhiking on alien ships, or on an IPX ship. Laurel wouldn't put it past Interplanetary Expeditions to pull this kind of stunt and not inform Earthforce.

Dr. John Howard inclined his head. "Well, yes. Just...not your Solar System. My Solar System. My Earth is the seat of the United Federation of Planets. You see...we're from another universe. We came here by accident and we're lost."

Laurel gaped. This was looking to be a very interesting day.

* * *

**Somewhere in the far reaches of the galaxy**  
  
Interdimensional activity detected in Spatial Grid 7396, Octant-66-omega. Halt attack on Species 689 homeworld, designated Norcadia. Diverting course of Cube 578 to investigate interdimensional activity. Priority at level 5. Opening transwarp conduit to transwarp aperture in System 85983. Ignore Species 973 in the destination system, designated Taurhai. 

We shall comply.


	5. Explanations

_T'Sara is the Vulcan archaeologist borrowed from the ST: TNG book_ The Devil's Heart_. In it, she was extremely old when she died, but here, she is middle-aged, whatever that means in Vulcan terms.  
  
Everyone else on the_ Hakudo Maru_ is my invention.  
  
I theorize that in_ ST: the Undiscovered Country_, the _Enterprise_ used a cloaking device to go into the Klingon Empire. Logically, experienced Klingon sensors would only be able to tell there was a vessel in their territory, but not what kind of vessel. Uncloaked, the Klingons would have been able to identify the vessel as a Federation starship without communicating with the deceptive Uhura. This explains the anomaly in the movie well and also explains why the _Enterprise_ wasn't challenged by patrols around Rura Penthe, a very important prison. (Even in the USA, a very civilian society as opposed to the Klingon militaristic society, we have vigilant patrols around important prisons) It still further explains why the later Treaty of Algeron forbids the Federation to research and use cloaking technology._

_

* * *

_  
"This is another universe entirely, gentlemen," Kirk reiterated. "As far as we know, except for Earth, none of the homeworlds we are familiar with exist here." He nodded at Spock to continue the brief he was telling to the senior officers gathered in the main conference lounge. It was good that all the Romulan ale on the ship was stashed away. Kirk doubted that the ale would ever see the Briefing Room again.  
  
"Known space," Spock continued, "is dominated by five main powers." Spock lightly pressed a finger on a device lying on the table. It was Vree technology bought from the now generous Starmaster Hachee. The device glowed and emitted a three-dimensional image of white stars. If Kirk was reading the holographic constellations right, the map was centered at Epsilon Eridani and extended up to 'only' 100 lightyears in all directions. They must not be as extended here as in his home universe. One of the stars was glowing particularly brighter than other stars. It was the sun of Vreetan and Deruzala, Zeta 2 Reticuli. It was made all the more brighter by the proximity of its twin sun, the sun of Photikar, Zeta 1 Reticuli. At another gentle touch, stars glowed colors in groups: red, purple, green, blue, gray and yellow. Spock pointed at the red stars. "We are currently at the edge of one of these powers, the oligarchic Narn Regime with its homeworld at the 82 Eridani System. In our quantum reality, the second planet in 82 Eridani is home to a primitive agrarian civilization protected by the Prime Directive. It would be interesting to find out what made the Narns an interstellar power in this universe. Possibly, it is related to a race called the Centauri who conquered them in the twenty-second century." Spock's finger moved among the stars to stop in the group of purple stars, which looked slightly larger than the red group. "The Centauri Republic centered at the Zeta Tucanae star system—" Dr. McCoy interrupted.  
  
"I thought these Centauri conquered the Narn?"  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow. Sometimes, humans could be very illogical in spite of the evidence before their eyes. "Doctor, empires do not remain static in the grand scheme of history. They are in a constant state of flux, waxing and waning with the times. The Klingon Empire is a case in point. As you are very well aware, the Klingons have 50 years left to maintain their empire on their own." Spock exhaled. It wasn't a sigh, not quite. McCoy, however, still caught the Vulcan exasperation and tightened his lips in his own exasperation. "OK, following your confounded mechanical logic, these Narns somehow broke away from Centauri rule and built their own empire in space. Correct me when I'm wrong, as you are fond of doing. Maybe my logical analysis is too emotional for you, but if I was conquered by an alien, I would try to chase him down and beat him up for conquering me." Spock bowed his head formally. McCoy was not sure if the Vulcan was mocking him. No. Actually, he's sure of it.  
  
"Do you see, Doctor? If you simply apply logic instead of impulsively drawing conclusions, you would be able to prevent me from correcting you."  
  
Yep. The confounded Vulcan was mocking him. McCoy glared as the Enterprise's chief science officer continued his brief.  
  
"The Centauri Republic, something of a misnomer, is actually an imperial monarchy and has been a starfaring species since the fourteenth century. It has expanded and contracted in various stages. Currently, the Centauri are experiencing an ascendancy, or more accurately, a renaissance of interstellar power."  
  
In the holographic star map, some of the red stars close to Centauri space darkened to a much deeper blood red, almost purple. Kirk shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It looked as if blood seeped from the purple stars across the neighboring power. Was it a Vree technique or was it Spock? He noticed that the Vree homestar was right at the edge of this bloodied region. No wonder the Vree were so tense at the Enterprise's appearance. Spock's voice continued its timber. "Following your very astute point, Doctor McCoy, the Narn and the Centauri are at war. This region indicates current Centauri conquests as far up to date as the Vree could get."  
  
Scotty grimaced. Repeats of history are pointless and extremely damaging. Especially when it comes to wars repeating themselves. Earth had its own share of repetitive history. The centuries of wars between the ancient nation-states of France and Germany, and others like them. It was as if the Romulans decided to bloodily rehash the Earth-Romulan War over and over again.  
  
"And what of Earth?" Chekov queried.  
  
Kirk leaned forward. This part should be interesting, he thought, as Spock pointed at a group of stars glowing green. It was flush against the red and purple of Narn and Centauri territories. Judging by the distances, the Solar System was approximately 10 lightyears from Centauri space and the Earth Alliance fanned out away from the Centauri Republic. It appeared too close for comfort.  
  
"The Earth Alliance spans 14 star systems with extensive outposts beyond. Most Earth colonies are still heavily dependent on the homeworld. Very few approach the minimum self-sufficiency recommended for Federation colonies." The star map showed that it was on the other side of the two warring powers from where the Federation starship was. "The Vree has extensive trade relations with Earth, but it is currently disrupted by the Narn-Centauri conflict, so we do not know the current affairs of that space. Since most of us on the Enterprise are human, Earth may be amiable about helping us if we go there."  
  
Kirk winced. "By going through a war zone?" He didn't find the idea of maneuvering among battling warships very favorable to establishing good relations in this universe. It was a literal minefield. First contact situations are tricky at best and to make first contact in the midst of a war could spell disaster. Oh, he'd made first contacts in war zones before, like Eminiar VII and Vendikar, but these were only local planetary and interplanetary wars as opposed to wars between large interstellar empires. He hoped the cloaking device wasn't too damaged in the battle with General Chang. They may need it however distasteful it was to the Starfleet ethos.  
  
Spock glanced at Montgomery Scott. The answer, he knew, would interest the chief engineer immensely. "The species of this universe do not appear to have developed subspace technology in spite of their extensive research into the nature of hyperspace. Without subspace technology, sensors cannot exceed the speed of light. Tachyon, the only naturally superluminal element, is mainly used for communications. As our entrance into the Vree system indicated, the local races depend on long distance sensor buoys which send tachyon-based telemetry to ships and planets. It would be most fascinating to see how intelligent species traverse space without subspace- based technologies. We have already seen the method of interstellar travel with the Vree's hyperspace vortex. So, Captain, logically, we can cross the intervening territories without detection, unless we slow to impulse near any inhabited system or space installation. Therefore, there is no need for a cloak."  
  
Scotty leaned forward, reminding Kirk of the engineer's wide-eyed excitement at Sargon's Planet, Arret. "How does this hyperspace work?"  
  
"We do not have sufficient data. The Vree could only sell us so much. But according to our sensors, the vortex is little more than a wormhole tearing through the barrier between the two spaces. Hyperspace, what little we could see, is somewhat like subspace and local starships generate the vortex with a 'jumpengine' to immerse themselves completely in hyperspace. As yet, conditions of such travel are unknown. Logically, being outside of normal space means the inability to detect anything in normal space. Again, we still have insufficient data."  
  
Scotty breathed excitedly. "It be like goin' straight into subspace without creating a subspace field around a starship! The speed of it! The Starfleet Corps of Engineers have theorized about that. A part of the Transwarp Experiment, it was. Captain, if we could get our hands on hyperspace technologies, transwarp would finally be truly possible for the Federation!"  
  
If we could return home. Kirk hoped it was not a matter of if but of when. Kirk pulled Spock back to the subject at hand. "You said there are five major powers...?"  
  
"Correct, Jim." Spock pointed at the group of blue stars. This time, the territory indicated did not straddle the borders of any of the other indicated major powers. "The Minbari Federation is the second oldest of the main powers. In spite of the official name, the Minbari appear to be the primary species in their space, leaving other species to remain as Minbari protectorates. If we are to look for an analog of our Federation, it should be the League of Non-Aligned Worlds." The League's stars were apparently haphazardly scattered between the main powers rather then gathered in a coherent group of yellow stars, some of which were actually isolated from the main body between the Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation. The two Vree stars was part of this League. "However, this League is much looser, more accurately to be called an alliance of mutually independent worlds."  
  
Chekov raised a finger to poke into the cloud of stars at the gray stars. "And this area? What's in there?"  
  
"The oldest of the five main powers, the Vorlon Empire."  
  
Scotty whistled. "All of it? Gotta be hundreds of stars in that wee space—"  
  
"It extends off the chart," Spock interjected. "The borders have not yet been entirely mapped by any of the species known to the Vree in this universe. However, the known volume of it is such that it can adequately contain the Federation, the Romulan and Klingon Empires within itself." Kirk stared at the hovering holographic stars. The Vorlon Empire straddled the coreward borders of the Minbari, Centauri and League territories, nearly overpowering the holographic star map. It had to be a major player in interstellar politics.  
  
Kirk slowly shook his head at the wonder of such interstellar complexity. Even though the reach of the local powers was much shorter than in his home universe, this quantum reality was much more Balkanized. It was as if Captain Jonathan Archer failed to pull the five allied races into a Federation and each race went their own ways in the twenty-second century. The psychohistorians and anthropologists at the Daystrom Institute would have a field day with this universe. He muttered rhetorically, "Where can we go for contact and help?"  
  
Spock chose not to regard Kirk's words as rhetoric. "Jim, there is a way for us to initiate First Contact with all of the governments at once. In spite of the complexity of the spaces involved, their diplomats have managed to meet together in a port of call in neutral space. Not quite unlike the failed colony at Nimbus III." The Vulcan touched the mapping device, manually highlighting the star of Epsilon Eridani. "The interstellar forum is in this star system on an Earth space station. Every starfaring independent world within a 75 lightyears radius has an ambassador posted there. At a constant Warp 7, we can reach the Epsilon Eridani System in six days."  
  
Scotty spoke up. "Captain, we need to repair the ship. The wee lass is in no shape if the locals turns out na friendly. We do na have a starbase for repair. Can we na ask the wee gray Vree for repair materials?"  
  
Kirk schooled his face to show a brave façade of captaincy, but he was not able to keep from tightening his lips. It was frustrating. Back in his home universe, he could always rely on at least limping back to Federation space or any of its allies for resupplies and repairs. But here...he didn't even know that Earth would be able to help in any way. "Scotty, we need to pay for anything we want from the Vree. Short of selling our technologies, we are too poor to beg for even one phaser."  
  
"Indeed," said Spock. "We are forced to look elsewhere. I recommend we go to the Epsilon Eridani System for other options."  
  
Kirk curtly nodded and stood up, thereby adjourning the brief. He paused and held out a hand to touch Spock's elbow. He must be getting very tired if he couldn't think clearly about local identities. "What's the name of that space station?"  
  
"Babylon 5."

* * *

Laurel Takashima was still stunned. She was staring out the impossibly enormous portside windows of the Recreation Room of the _Hakudo Maru_. She could see the _Brittany_ hanging in space and highlighted by the sun of this star system.  
  
Another universe entirely. Sure, hyperspace is another dimension, but it doesn't have any native star system or species. Except for the stories about the Lost Planet. It was just a legend and a story in the bestseller book _The Crimson Castle_. The writer, Alexa Belli had a good imagination, but the people on this alien ship had her beat, except it wasn't fiction. The truth is stranger than fiction.  
  
The noise of swishing silks called her attention from behind. Laurel turned around quickly. T'Sara had promised her solitude in the Recreation Room with food laid out on a table. It must not be threatening, because Reza Malin and the guards had not barred the entrance of whoever was coming.  
  
It was Lady Neclauna Nore and another woman with the backdrop of stars in the starboard windows. The other woman had the same intense black eyes. Laurel had to keep her mouth from falling open. The other woman was beautiful, beyond beautiful. Dressed in maroon and black, the young woman's skin was ivory pale with midnight black hair flowing like a waterfall to just below her shoulders. Laurel knew that she was considered beautiful, but compared to this one, she might as well be merely pretty or even plain. It was foolish, but it irritated her. She had to remind herself that she was an Earthforce officer and straighten herself for the inevitable introductions.  
  
Lady Neclauna smiled benevolently, if coolly. "Captain Takashima, may I introduce a protégé of the Fourth House and a researcher in the University of Medara, Liria Satarah." Liria made a small curtsy, like a noblewoman to a commoner. If she was human, Laurel would feel even more irritated at the almost condescending regal formality. But this Liria was beautiful. And tall. A thin waist, but tall. Probably six feet tall. A full foot taller than herself so that Laurel had to look up at Liria's face. She almost felt a pull toward Liria. It wasn't like the magnetism of Dr. John Howard, but it almost felt like she was attracted to the alien woman in spite of the fact that she did not lean that way. It was disturbing.  
  
Apparently, Reza Malin was not immune to Liria's 'charm.' "Allah," Reza said, sounding as if he was saying his thoughts out loud unconsciously. "If there is such a thing as perfect human beauty, in face and form, than you—"  
  
"Commander!" Laurel shouted. Malin stiffened in embarrassment, his ears turning red, which was quite a feat, considering his Persian-Iranian skin pigment.  
  
Liria laughed musically. "It's understandable, Captain Takashima. I am not a full Betazoid. My father was a Deltan," Liria said proudly, as if it was perfectly clear. A mixed alien breed! Laurel had to suppress the automatic revulsion at the idea. Liria smirked. "Don't worry, I took an Oath of Celibacy before joining the expedition." Laurel nearly choked, and Malin's eyes bulged. Oath of Celibacy?  
  
Lady Neclauna cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at Liria who, after a silent and pregnant pause, frowned back. The Betazoid noblewoman smiled apologetically at Laurel. "Please excuse Liria. She has not yet fully accepted the fact that this is a different quantum reality and you may not have heard of Betazed or Delta IV."  
  
Reza Malin was nervously trying to make his tongue work through a very dry mouth. "Umm, Miss Nore...what is this...umm Oath?"  
  
Neclauna and Liria looked at each other and giggled. Liria silently looked at Neclauna and the silence felt pregnant to Laurel again. What's going on? Is it a Betazoid thing? The feeling of familiarity tickled her again. Neclauna nodded once and answered, "Deltans have very strong pheromones. Extremely strong. It is said a human cannot survive a sexual encounter with a Deltan without prior conditioning." This time, Malin choked, sounding as if he was having a heart attack. Pheromones. That explained Laurel's vague and troubling attraction to Liria. That cleared it up. She did not want to go through another identity search she'd endured in her college years. Neclauna arched an eyebrow at Malin before finally saying amusedly, "The Oath of Celibacy is to protect sexually immature races from the Deltans'...qualities."  
  
Reza Malin's mind was blank of anything to say. Sexually immature? He suddenly became aware of Liria's eyes on him. Her expression didn't change, but those dark, dark eyes made him feel naked. Unbidden, the thought came of Liria with no clothes. Malin felt his face burning hot. Liria smiled as if she knew what Malin was thinking and feeling. She offered a hand to Malin who accepted it. Her hand was firm, surprisingly strong and was...silk? Something softer, smoother. Malin nearly shivered.  
  
"I hope you can help us in our predicament," Liria said. Malin nodded slowly, while Laurel frowned. How could anyone's skin be so soft? Noticing Laurel's frown, Malin pulled his hand away as politely as possible. Neclauna touched Liria's elbow and looked admonishingly at the younger woman. Liria bowed her head slightly, seemingly in submission to an unvoiced request. Again, the apparent silent communication. The familiarity tickled even harder at Laurel. Suddenly, it seemed that Malin felt a little less attracted to Liria even though she was still the same stunningly beautiful woman. The pheromones. Deltans were probably able to control their pheromones. It was probably a good thing that Delta IV didn't exist around here. He could see the potential problems that may entail. Slavery. A Centauri conquest. Humans dying of sex rather than sex-related diseases.  
  
Laurel stepped forward to assume the authority that Malin had nearly usurped. "We will do what we can. But I doubt that we can return you to your universe." Her comm link chirped for attention. Laurel raised her hand to her mouth and pressed the link for activation. "Takashima, go."  
  
It was the voice of the comm officer on the Brittany. "Captain, the _DeSoto_ reports the completion of the jumpgate. They will activate it soon."  
  
About time. "Thank you. Plot a course back to the gate and prime the engines. We will be back."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Neclauna still stood regally, but the glint of eagerness shone in her eyes. Laurel smiled. The activation of a jumpgate was a wondrous event. Few could ever get tired of the miracle of that technology. These people from the other universe claimed to not know of jump technology. Instead, they relied on something called the 'warp drive' to travel in space, apparently capable of distorting space around a ship for speed. Sounds like a very advanced form of gravitic drive. If they were telling the truth, they were in for a treat. "May we offer you escort to the jumpgate?"  
  
"Thank you, Captain Takashima. I'm sure that the Director and her assistant will appreciate that." Neclauna turned and left the Recreation Room. Liria's lips turned up at a corner. Laurel and Malin weren't sure if the Deltan-Betazoid was smiling.  
  
Dr. John Howard was looking at the main viewer. He could see the _Brittany_ just ahead and beside the _Hakudo Maru_. Far ahead, Howard could also see another Earth ship, the DeSoto beside a construct that looked like an incomplete version of a Starfleet drydock frame. He could not believe how primitive these so-called Earth ships were, and he also could not believe the size of these ships, especially the _DeSot_o, which ops had claimed to be 6,104 meters long. Such a huge expensive waste of materials and resources. Nevertheless, he was impressed with their size. He shook his head in wonder. Primitive ships and worlds matched with a traveling technology that seemed centuries ahead of what these primitives should be capable of. If there is a God, he had a sense of humor. It was an anomaly he intended to figure out.  
  
T'Sara was busy using the ship's equipments to analyze the 'jumpgate.' Vulcans. Always relying on machines to do the looking for them. But this T'Sara, though unfailingly logical and unemotional, had an unusual understanding of the emotions of other races. She had her uses, as much as the machines. Howard had to be careful around her. The communicator trilled for attention. He moved to activate it, again resenting the loss of Giuliana Margolis. The Starfleet liaison and observer had fallen into a coma in the transit into this universe. Now he had to do everything that Giuliana did. It was vexing. Laurel Takashima's face appeared on the main viewer.  
  
"_Hakudo Maru_, we're activating the jumpgate. Enjoy the show." She smiled before signing off. Howard could see a form of harness holding the Earthforce woman into her chair. No gravity control technology. How could they stand traveling in space in such a primitive environment? It was a wonder he didn't see the content of stomachs floating around Laurel's head.  
  
The main viewer switched back to the view of the jumpgate and the nearby _DeSoto_. The nearer ends of the jumpgate's brackets glowed bright. The four lights ran down the length of the gate, picking up speed while causing the _Hakudo Maru_'s sensors to register a massive energy buildup. When the bright lights reached the further ends of the gate, light exploded between those ends as a hole is punched into hyperspace. An orange-golden vortex spilled out of the explosion, exposing the hell of hyperspace to the cold order of normal space.  
  
Everyone with eyes upon the newly completed jumpgate gasped at the wonder of the technology. The _Hakudo Maru_ people were completely speechless while their scientific equipments went crazy. Even T'Sara was impressed and it took much to impress any experienced and well-disciplined Vulcan.  
  
"Hail the _Brittany_," ordered T'Sara. John Howard barely bristled at the order. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed her into making herself 'subcommander' of the ship when they found Giuliana unconscious. The communication link was tied in with the Earth military craft. T'Sara then requested permission to enter the jumpgate.  
  
"Director," answered Laurel cautiously, "you do not have the codes for the gate or for any of the other gates and hyperspace beacons. You could get lost in hyperspace and I wouldn't recommend that." Captain Takashima thought for a while. Earth Central still had not responded to her reports, yet. No matter. The answer would soon become prompt if she took things in her hands. "We could escort you to the nearest Earth outpost." She nodded to Reza Malin to add that to the reports bound to Earth.  
  
T'Sara bowed her gratitude. "We accept your offer." The sensor reading of the jumpgate had proved most fascinating. An unknown chemical element was detected within the construction of the vortex generator, 'jumpgate' they called it, although it had properties similar to duridium and uridium.  
  
The _DeSoto_ moved into the jumpgate. The length of that gargantuan Explorer class ship elongated as it entered the open gate and vanished in a flash into the hellish maw of hyperspace. It was leaving to build another gate for the next star system. The _Brittany_ signaled the red Surak-class starship to enter the gate before following it into hyperspace. The blue outline on the red ring around the _Hakudo Maru_ glowed slightly brighter as its subspace fields manipulated the impulse engines. Its sharp nose poked into the tunnel of the swirling vortex.  
  
T'Sara and John Howard stared into the roiling hell of hyperspace. Howard could barely catch his breath. In a warp drive, at least hell was contained within the matter-antimatter annihilation chamber, not all around outside a ship. Inexplicably, they felt pushed a little backward as the ship toed its way into the roiling vortex. The inertial dampeners should have canceled that, but it was probably part of the strange technology's properties. The universe elongated for all on the _Hakudo Maru_ as the ship was stretched into a long strand of atoms.  
  
The ship went back into its own usual shape within hyperspace itself. John Howard stumbled as the deck lurched. The hull seemed to groan in distress. His eyes swiftly took in the sensor readings coming in.  
  
"Gravity waves!" Howard rushed to the ops console, while holding onto the wall to keep from falling down. T'Sara was likewise holding herself into the command chair. Howard forced himself to remember the sequences and hurriedly increased the structural integrity field's strength. The _Hakudo Maru_ was buffered by yet another cloudy gravity wave and it shuddered.  
  
They were in hell. Howard remembered an ancient Chinese curse.  
  
_May you live in interesting times._ Indeed. Things were getting too interesting. 


	6. Illness of War

The lightning-like discharges and violent flows of red-orange plasma clouds over a darkness were like that of a volatile nebula. Except nebulae do not have dangerous gravity waves that force a ship to constantly correct its course with engines or thrusters, requiring the vigilant attention of a pilot or helmsman. And energy had to be wasted in maintaining a stronger than normal structural integrity field and shields. Hyperspace was beautiful, but in the way molten lava could be called beautiful.  
  
The _Hakudo Maru_ had been in hyperspace for three and a half days, laboring to remain in the wake of the Earthforce ship _Brittany_. T'Sara and her people were warned that should the Vulcan-built ship ever veer off course, they may be lost forever. It was even more doubly true when the crew of mostly academicians did not have the codes for the hyperspace navigation beacons or any of the jumpgates in the network. Furthermore, the ship's sensors were cut by 20% by the conditions of hyperspace. T'Sara, although a full Vulcan, was not immune to the effects of hyperspace. Her Vulcan nature enabled her to keep control of herself, but her human and Betazoid colleagues were largely bedridden. It was, as Captain Takashima called it, Hyperspace Travel Syndrome. In hyperspace, the apparent motion of a ship as a person's eyes perceived it, was not the true motion as indicated by the ship's instruments. The constantly shifting patterns played optical tricks, confusing the viewer's perception of up and down, forward and backward. As a result, nausea, vertigo and panic attacks were intense in emotional beings capable of imagination. Especially in the Betazoids whose mental shields were constantly battered by the flood of emotions. Normally, they would be able to endure this. The properties of hyperspace, however, somehow amplified the telepathic abilities of anyone onboard. T'Sara had ordered most of the windows on the _Hakudo Maru_ closed or darkened to spare her people of the sickening view outside and had extra bed sheets and blankets collected to serve as covering curtains over the large windows of the Recreation Room.  
  
T'Sara was alone on the bridge, except for the human helmsman. It was almost time for the helmsman to trade his place with another pilot and go to the infirmary for rest, and tri-ox and anti-nausea treatments. Normally, as a touch-telepath, T'Sara wouldn't sense the unease of the helmsman, but her ability was just as amplified in hyperspace as the Betazoids'. It was, she agreed, a most uncomfortable way to travel.  
  
It was a wonder that the species of this quantum reality did not seek to develop some other form of interstellar travel. Federation science was naturally a most attractive boon to Laurel Takashima's engineers. In the first two days, Earthforce engineers indeed were aboard the _Hakudo Maru_, trying to ferret out the ship engines' secrets. T'Sara thought back to those days.  
  
_Laurel once more appeared puzzled at the silent communication between Betazoids. To T'Sara's eyes, the human woman seem to want to ask something but was holding back for the sake of diplomatic politeness.  
  
Lady Neclauna, of course, knew why. "Captain Takashima, is there anything you'd like to ask of us? Do not worry about offending us. My society on Betazed emphasizes open honesty and nothing is hidden from us." T'Sara arched an eyebrow. It was needless of the Betazoid noblewoman to be so cryptic, yet subtly taunting. Since Betazed was not yet a Federation world, having only recently applied for membership, T'Sara did see it within her bounds to discuss such methods with Neclauna. Fortunately, she did not sense that Laurel caught any deeper meaning in Neclauna's words.  
  
"Umm, do you have some kind of...facial expression language? I know there are alien cultures that base communication almost entirely on body language. Many times, I've seen some of your people carrying on verbal conversations and suddenly would stop talking and...just looking. Looking...and understanding each other. They would sometimes continue to talk verbally after that. What's up with that? Not that it bothers me. I'm just curious."  
  
Neclauna smiled. "We're telepathic."  
  
Laurel's knees nearly buckled and looked as if someone punched her stomach. A faint wash of alarm and horror splashed against T'Sara's mental shields. Her sharp Vulcan ears could hear her soft mutter under her breath, "I should be a fiction writer! What was I fooling myself for??"  
  
T'Sara stepped forward. "Please do not alarm yourself. We apologize for not informing you earlier. Deception was not our intention."  
  
Laurel pulled back away from the diminutive Vulcan woman, looking at her as if she had turned into a Sheliak. "You too?!"  
  
T'Sara knew she should be feeling quite annoyed at this human's offensive reaction, but she had to remind herself that this human was not from her home reality. "In a sense. I am a touch telepath. I can only sense a person's emotions and thoughts through skin-to-skin contact. We are not touching. For all purposes in this instance, I am not a telepath."  
  
Laurel's eyes were nearly popping. "Is it just...some of you? Why isn't there an agency aboard to manage you?" Suspicion bloomed in her eyes. "Or IS there?"  
  
Neclauna looked as if she was keeping herself from running to her quarters and sicking up. What was she seeing in the Earthforce officer's mind? "Peace and calm. Peace. As the good Director said, there is no deception involved. Telepathy is not a recent phenomenon for us. It is known throughout the history of the planets Betazed and Vulcan. Humans in our universe do not have widespread telepathy, but a few has been born with the ability. We do not employ...agencies" The Betazoid woman infused the word with distaste. "to manage the ability. However, we do have strong ethics about how it is used. It has never been abused on Betazed since the reforms of Dainara, nor has it on Vulcan since Surak."  
  
"Just...how widespread is..." Laurel's horror and suspicion were still growing in her eyes. "telepathy in your races?"  
  
Neclauna glanced at T'Sara. The middle-aged Vulcan nodded subtly. Complete honesty. "All of us, Captain. All of us. With varying degrees of strength and capability among us. Some of us are more empathic, some are more telepathic and a rare few have some telekinetic ability." She pursed her lips as she sensed new emotions roiling within Laurel. "Vulcans, as I understand, nearly all are touch-telepaths. There has been no telekinesis among them, not since their warlike past."  
  
"Entire worlds of teeks and teeps!" Laurel was gasping.  
_  
It was soon after that that there was a flurry of shuttle traffic between the two ships, transporting personnel back to their respective vessels. T'Sara could not comprehend such a violent prejudice against mentalics. Thankfully, Laurel did not broadcast the information to her own crew and only used the excuse of a diplomatic gaffe for the evacuation of the Federation research vessel. Given Laurel's extent of prejudice, T'Sara wondered why she did not inform her crew. Perhaps it was to prevent a panic, an outright attack or even a mutiny from occurring, if the prejudice was indeed held by most humans in this reality. At least, she did not order her cruiser to take off, leaving T'Sara and her people stranded and lost in hyperspace. The way Lady Neclauna described what she sensed and read in Laurel was troubling to say the least. Most prominent was the mental image of a symbol that seem to be from the Terran Greek and from Alpha Centaurian cultures. A Psi symbol, as T'Sara recalled from her studies of ancient mythologies, towering over the red landscape of Mars. That symbol was drenched in fear and revulsion. Most troubling, indeed.  
  
T'Sara looked up as the doors of a turbo lift slid open, admitting the replacement helmsman, and mindlessly watched her take the seat eagerly vacated by the human man who was decidedly looking as if he'd replaced his blood with green Vulcan blood through a transfusion.  
  
T'Sara hoped the latest episode would not influence dealings with the Earth Alliance negatively.

**Somewhere near Quadrant 27  
**  
Lieutenant Telan peered at the main viewer showing star streaks rushing past the Enterprise from the command chair. Her antennas were moving in every direction, tasting the air and giving her instinctive information on the other crewmen on the bridge. It was nearing the end of Gamma Shift, and the Andorian woman would be glad to have her meal before going to bed. She looked down at her wine-red uniform. She could not wait to have the golden symbols of a commander added to her uniform epaulet, thus satisfying the family tradition of military service. Granted, Starfleet was not as military as the Imperial Guard in the days of her ancestor, Talas, but Starfleet deserved high respect and honor ever since it helped the Andorian Imperial Guard defeat the Romulans in the 22nd century. Telan was the latest in the Clan of Talas to prove the Andorians' worth in Starfleet, thus rivaling the Clan of Shran. She wondered if she would ever see her family-clan on the Andorian colony of Pvarto again. If she could not return home, she could not bring the honor she'd so far collected to the Clan of Talas.  
  
Ensign Manning called from the science station for Lt. Telan's attention. "Sir, there's a ship just ahead. It just appeared on the sensors. It's a transport. It must have come out of that structure we detected earlier."  
  
"Magnify visual," ordered Telan, tossing her white hair back over her shoulders while her antennas swiveled to turn their entire attention to the main viewer. The viewer magnified its view until it could capture an alien ship slowly moving away from three struts arranged like a drydock. The structure must be a jump gate.  
  
Orders from Captain Kirk were to continue on to the Epsilon Eridani System and ignore any ship detected. But these orders didn't say anything about not looking. Theoretically, as long as the Enterprise was at warp, the Federation starship was undetectable by anyone in this universe. This alien ship appeared fairly large and had three parts connected to a central hull. The front, if that was the front, was a rustic golden, while the rest of the bulbous hull was a grayish blue. Telan did not see any engine, which must be at the back of the alien craft. She turned to Ensign Manning and caused her left antenna to rise almost straight up.  
  
Manning had worked with Telan long enough to recognize the question. "There are 179 life signs on the alien vessel..." Manning's voice trailed off. Telan turned her right antenna toward the ensign, indicating encouraging attention, then the antenna returned to the direction of the main viewer. Manning took a deep breath. "Some of these life signs are fading. Two have vanished. Sir, they're dying over there." Telan widened her eyes at that piece of news. She peered at the alien craft once more. There was nothing to indicate scars or damages from a battle. The current communications officer spoke up.  
  
"Sir, we're getting a distress signal over tachyon." The young man at the communications station pressed a button, activating speakers.  
  
_"...to any vessel, we need help. The Dark Angel is walking among us and we need help against it. We are moral people, but the Dark Angel does not care. Please help us."  
_  
Telan's antennas nearly flattened themselves onto her white hair. The plaintive call was very distressing and melodramatic. A hostile alien was onboard that ship, killing people with impunity. Ensign Manning indicated that more of the life signs had begun to fade and one more of the aliens had just died.  
  
Kirk's orders did not forbid any assistance to a ship in distress. Lt. Telan's Starfleet training in such a situation kicked in. "Mr. Tarkaan, adjust course to alien vessel. Increase speed to Warp 7.5 and drop to impulse at 100 kilometers from the alien vessel." Some action, finally. It meant more honor and getting closer to that promotion. Telan turned to the communications officer. "Answer the alien that help is coming. Inform Sickbay to prepare to receive patients and tell Security to prepare a boarding party." She pointed at the tactical operations officer. "Prime the transporters."  
  
Lieutenant Telan of Clan Talas stood up straight from the command chair in an Imperial Guard stance of readiness for combat. This so-called angel was about to receive its own medicine.

Kirk was sleeping, having finally succumbed to exhaustion ages ago. He was too exhausted even to dream and he was immensely grateful for the relief that meant.  
  
A scream rudely jerked Kirk out of his sleep. His heart jumped from a near- comatose state to hyper beating. He really hated being awakened this way. His adrenaline-cleared ears finally transformed the scream into the wail of an alarm klaxon.  
  
Red Alert!  
  
Kirk jumped out of the bed, opening his wardrobe in the same motion. Grabbing an uniform, Kirk stumbled as the deck jumped up a few inches and the air vibrated. Weapons fire! What's going on?? _"Bridge to Captain Kirk."_ The voice coming out of the communicator by his bed was that of Lt. Telan. Pulling his pants on, he reached for the communicator button. The deck dropped a few inches, indicating another weapon hit, and Kirk fell down to the deck, missing the button. _"Bridge to Captain Kirk, please respond!"_ Kirk jumped up, slamming the button with the heel of his hand. "Kirk here, what's the hell are you doing to my ship!"  
  
_"We're under attack! Two alien vessels came out of--"_ The deck vibrated with a weaker weapon hit on the Enterprise's shields. _"They came out of hyperspace!"  
_  
Kirk frowned. If they were detected, it meant his starship had dropped out of warp some time ago. What was his starship doing out of warp? No matter. "Lieutenant, I'm coming! Hold the fort!" He continued to dress hurriedly.  
  
The _Enterprise_ swept around for another phaser shot, shooting a missile out of space. This action saved the alien transport once more from the two predator ships. For her trouble, another energy beam grazed her shields which glowed angrily. An alien warship flew away from the Federation starship, anticipating a response. A phaser shot off the tip of the top forward-pointing wing of the alien vessel, sending the singed purple horn spinning out into space, flashing a golden symbol as it spun.  
  
The wounded predator's twin rose high above the starship, its sharp beak- like nose seeming to prepare to bite at the starship. The bite came in the form of bolts of energy flying true at the _Enterprise_. The energy bolts slammed against the Federation shields successively in almost the same point, straining its ability to maintain its full strength. The alien transport, though grateful for the multiple saves that the _Enterprise_ afforded it, discretely moved out away from the battle to save itself.  
  
Gamma Shift had been quickly replaced with Kirk's Alpha Shift. Lt. Telan remained to explain the situation to Captain Kirk.  
  
"I apologize, Captain, but--" A hit grazed the shields once more, interrupting the Andorian's explanation. She talked fast as if she was afraid the next hit would kill her. Her antennas were wilting. "We received a distress call from a transport. Its passengers were dying." And not of a hostile alien murderer. Instead, the killer turned out to be a disease. She should have investigated more carefully! Telan abandoned her dignified stance in favor of holding onto the rail around the center of the bridge as another hit stumbled her. "Then 3 minutes later, these warships came out of hyperspace, claiming that we were trespassing in their space and we should surrender. They said they were trying to save the dying aliens from their disease by destroying them. Of course, I refused to allow that to happen." The shame of it all burned in Telan. She should have informed Kirk the minute she dropped out of warp. What would Mother say? If this was an Imperial Guard warship, she would deserve being shot.  
  
Kirk pursed his lips. The Centauri. It could not be helped. What's done is done, although he should have been woken for this situation. "You did well, Lt. Telan. It's what I would do. Go to your post." Telan started with pleased surprised, and saluted before running into the turbolift.  
  
The starship captain turned his attention back to the battle. The Centauri warships looked like predator birds. It put to mind of the Klingon bird-of- prey, except these were much larger, at least twice as long as the Enterprise, and had two more wings. They looked imperially magnificent. The Enterprise was still damaged from the battle over Khitomer, but repairs were ongoing. There was no planet nearby: the nearest star system was lightyears away. To save his crew and ship, all restraints had to be done away with.  
  
"Mr. Chekov, target each of these vessels. Two photon torpedoes for each. I want you to disable the ships. Fire."  
  
Four flaring red stars shot out of the neck between the saucer and engine sections. The Centauri Vorchan class cruisers attempted to evade the torpedoes. But the torpedoes were too fast and were able to track the Centauri Vorchans. The photon torpedoes slammed into the Vorchans, blowing large gaping holes out of their hulls. Both were noticeably pushed off their courses by the blasts. One of them was unlucky enough to have both torpedoes hit almost the same spot on its neck. The ship was split in two by the twin blasts. The lights on the beheaded ship flickered and went out as bodies were seen streaming out of the open ends. The power for emergency bulkheads finally came on, saving whoever was left inside the ship. The Vorchan was out of commission for now. The other Centauri Vorchan appeared to be enraged by the destruction wreaked by such an opponent that was just a bit smaller than a Drazi Sunhawk. A panel opened under the beak-like head of the surviving Vorchan and two large balls dropped out and flew, maneuvering their ways toward the _Enterprise_.  
  
These must be their own torpedoes. "Phasers, target those balls and fire!" They made a friend in the Vree, and already, they made an enemy in these Centauri. He supposed Spock would say it's a balance of affairs in this universe. He hoped it wasn't true.  
  
Angry red bolts shot out of the _Enterprise_, as the starship maneuvered to evade the onrushing torpedoes, both of which detonated as the phaser bolts touched them. The surviving Vorchan, meanwhile, fired bolts from its twin ion cannons, its most powerful energy weapon at hand.  
  
The ion bolts splashed against the already damaged Federation shields.  
  
Spock calmly called out, "Shields down to 83%." Uhura shouted over the din of the battle, "Captain, they're ignoring our hails!"  
  
Kirk grunted. Then it couldn't be helped. "Chekov, hit their engines, disable them!"  
  
The _Enterprise_'s impulse engines glowed a stronger red and the starship sped around the Centauri warship, swerving to face the backside of the ship. Phasers lashed out at the Centauri twin engines. The phaser beams visibly bent slightly and grazed the engines. The attempt to disable failed.  
  
Kirk threw his head around at Spock, looking surprised. "Spock! What was that?"  
  
"A form of gravimetric shielding. It would appear that the Centauri employ a form of gravity field beyond their hull. While not as effective as our shields, it is enough to gravitically bend light, in this instance, phaser, so that it would miss its target." Spock clutched to hold himself in his chair as the starship shook under another Centauri barrage. "Shields down to 79%." The Vulcan stared at Kirk for the next order.  
  
Kirk said, "Photon torpedoes seem to do the trick well enough. Fire one into their engines!"  
  
A flaring red star shot out, too fast for the Centauri to shoot it out of space. It found its mark in the backside of the Centauri Vorchan and exploded against it. The Centauri ship's nose dipped sharply as the lights flickered on the ship until weaker lights shone through the few windows of the Vorchan. They were emergency lights coming on.  
  
Spock reported, "The gravimetric shielding is gone..."  
  
Kirk pounded a fist into an open hand. "Good! Target those weapons with phasers! And--" Spock interrupted.  
  
"Jim, their weapons are down as well. It seems Centauri weapons are tied with their engines."  
  
"What?" Kirk looked aghast at the listing Centauri cruiser on the main viewer. They'd accidentally tripped the Centauri's Achilles' Heel. He hoped he did not just murder hundreds of Centauri lives. "Life support?"  
  
"Still functioning." Spock never liked battles. War was against the principles of Surak, but he recognized the logic of preserving your life in war. Whenever a battle was over, Spock did not celebrate the enemy's defeat. Instead, he was grateful that he and his friends were still alive at the end of the battle. It was regrettable that the Centauri had attacked and were so brutally cut down. "Jim, they are refusing our offers to help."  
  
Kirk shook his head grimly. Regrettable, but it was their choice. "Mr. Redpath, move us closer to the alien transport. When we are close enough, begin transport of the survivors to the _Enterprise_." "It's a plague."  
  
Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Please don't be melodramatic."  
  
In his white medical smock, Dr. McCoy harrumphed. "I'm a professional doctor, Jim. It is a plague. Or to be more accurate, a pandemic. As far as I could find out from these people, it is 100% fatal and 100% contagious." Kirk widened his eyes in alarm. Leonard McCoy raised his hands to placate the Captain. "Don't worry, Jim. Diseases cannot cross species, except when their physiologies are similar enough. I doubt anyone on the ship have anything similar to these Markab." McCoy glanced at Spock to gauge his reaction as well.  
  
Kirk looked down at one of the Markabs lying on a biobed. The Markab female (if this was a female, judging by the contours of her body hidden by brown and dark orange robes) had smooth skin where the nose should be. On the back of her head, her skin cracked almost like sun-dried mud. Kirk looked at the other Markabs crowding Sickbay. It seemed to be a normal thing for the Markab race.  
  
"Do we have any record on the Markabs, Bones?" McCoy shook his head. "If you mean about their biological makeup, no, Jim. But we do have records of the Markabs as a civilization. Seems the Vegan Tyranny destroyed their civilization in the days before the Federation. Here, the Centauri conquered Vega before the Vegans could threaten Markab. They're extinct in our universe. Hell, they will soon become extinct in _this_ universe!"  
  
Spock said, "Surely not. If this is indeed a pandemic and the Markabs are aware of it, measures would be taken against it."  
  
McCoy nearly bristled. He was upset. No, he was VERY mad! He took a deep breath, reminding himself that it was unprofessional to take his anger out at Spock. "That's just the problem. The Markabs are aware of the problem, but they _won't_ admit to it. My God, they've politicized and stigmatized the disease! These Markabs are extremely careful about their morality. Seems if they contract the disease they're seen as immoral sinners. Of course, the sick person wouldn't admit to having contracted Drafa--that's the Markab name for the disease--and walk around, spreading the disease to others in the streets! Irresponsible! The irresponsible stupidity of it!! Even their own government refuses to take any measure and forbids any research into the Drafa Plague and any discussion of it with non-Markabs! If it's dying for sins they're afraid of, PRIDE should be a sin to be afraid of!" He growled the last statement. McCoy was nearly trembling with the horrified anger of such an incomprehensible concept. His knuckles were turning white as his hands curled into tight fists. Other conscious Markabs turned to stare at the increasingly loud doctor and nurses made themselves even more busy with their own works, studiously ignoring McCoy's rant.  
  
"Bones." Kirk sympathetically put a hand on McCoy's arm, calming him. He felt sickened as well, but his friend, who took the Hippocratic Oath seriously, obviously felt a lot worse. Even Spock had shock painted on his usually stoic face.  
  
McCoy shakily picked up a hypospray and drew strength from the feel of the small medical device. "I'm sorry, Jim. It really offends me. It's the biggest violation of the Hippocratic Oath I've ever seen, even if they don't have anything like the Oath. It's as if Dr. Mengele teamed up with Governor Kodos the Executioner to rule a dozen worlds. The only reason we got the distress signal was the Markab pilot panicked when some other Markabs tried to ram his door. If he hasn't sent the signal, that transport would be full of corpses without anyone the wiser!"  
  
Kirk winced at the name of Kodos. Even though it had been decades since Tarsus IV, it still left scars in him. Only Anton Karidian, or Kodos as he really was years later, was able to allow Kirk to make peace with the memory of Tarsus IV. He squeezed McCoy's arm in sympathy, helping him return to professionalism. "Doctor, can you...cure this...plague?"  
  
McCoy pulled himself up straight and stalked over to a micro-diagnostic table on which a Markab was lying. Emotions were still roiling in the doctor. A schematic of the Markab's body was displayed on the screen beside the table.  
  
"Symptoms of Drafa include chronic dizziness, acute sore throat, swelling lymph and surface glands, and low blood pressure. Incubation is a day to a week. Drafa is a neurovirus. It targets the neural and synaptic chemicals and causes the brain to misfire. Death comes when the lungs or the heart stop receiving signals from the brain." McCoy pointed at a part of the diagnostic, understanding what Kirk could only see as an incomprehensible miasma of colors and shapes. "In the Markabs, neural signals are carried by chemicals produced by special cells. Very few races has evolved to have that kind of specialized cells. In the Markabs, it's the yellow cell." McCoy turned to face Kirk and Spock, and lightly brushed the arm of the Markab. He need to keep a personal connection to his patients. He believed it a mark of a truly good doctor, rather than just looking through machines. "Now, I can't cure the neurovirus, but I can delay it by synthesizing the yellow cells for the Markabs and stimulating production of natural yellow cells in them. Just long enough to effectively eradicate the neurovirus in the patients."  
  
A Markab girl wavered on her feet, looking dizzy. Her mother anxiously grabbed her up in her arms and stared at McCoy with wide wet eyes for help.  
  
McCoy's mouth set grimly. "Looks like we have work to do all night. Time to beat the Dark Angel of Drafa. Nurse! How's that blood synthesizer coming?" McCoy paused before bounding away into the work of saving the Markabs. "Oh, Jim. Remember what I said about their government taking no measures against the neurovirus? Their homeworld has over two billion people on it." He tiredly shrugged. "That's the number before the Drafa Plague began some time ago." He turned and dove into his latest work.  
  
Kirk stared at Spock in horror. His mind conjured up images of silent cities with decaying bodies and fresh corpses littering the streets. The old, the young, the children lying dead everywhere while animals scavenged among them in the now harmless cities. _100% contagious and 100% fatal._ He could see Spock thinking of the same thing as well, perhaps not so vividly.  
  
Kirk ran to a communicator console and slammed the activation button. "Bridge! This is Captain Kirk. Change course to the Markab System. Maximum warp!" Babylon 5 could wait while a catastrophe of this proportions should be averted first. He hoped _Enterprise_ would arrive in time.  
  
**Royal Admiralty, Imperial City, Centauri Prime  
**  
A hologram of sectors involved in the war hovered over a table surrounded by those who considered themselves to be important personages of the Republic. Grand Fleet Admiral Dromo stared out one of the tall windows overlooking the river flowing through the Imperial City. He could see the Imperial Palace sitting atop a hill across the city. The war was getting along rather successfully. The Narns were retreating on all fronts. Dromo did not need to be fully involved in the plans to assault the Narn core worlds in spite of the fact that the Centauri were receiving heavy casualties.  
  
His mind was somewhere else. The climbing casualties was part of the problem.  
  
That horrible rippling darkness. As far as Dromo knew, every single world in Known Space had experienced the darkness, a false night hiding suns and stars, snuffing out the light of the universe. For a few seconds, hours at most, the war had halted in its tracks. Lord Refa's sources and Ambassador Mollari's unknown associates had fallen silent since then. As a result, intelligence about the war had become scarce and more soldiers were dying because of that. If these sources do not reactivate themselves, the war may drag on needlessly.  
  
"Lord Admiral Dromo, is this war not important enough for your attention?"  
  
Dromo started, pulling his mind back into the Royal Admiralty Situation Room. He turned from the tall window to face the Minister of War in the Centauri Republic. Dromo straightened his formal dress uniform covered with elaborate medals and military embroideries, and rolled his eyes up to the huge chandelier lighting the room as if it was a god capable of granting mercy. "The Republic is foremost in my interest, naturally, Lord Vitari. How can you doubt me?"  
  
Minister Vitari narrowed his eyes while successfully keeping suspicion out of his face. Dromo had insulted him without insulting him by using his noble title rather than the title of Minister. Dromo wasn't fooled. He knew the War Minister's opinion of House Dromo. The position of Grand Fleet Admiral has been a hereditary one for House Dromo in exchange for eternal loyal service to the Emperor and Republic.  
  
Lord Tavastani raised a perfumed handkerchief to his nose, sniffingly calling for attention from the others in the chamber. The Royal Guardsman Elite was about to talk at length about the ongoing war when the doors to the chamber opened, admitting another man. Dromo recognized him to be Lord Admiral Jarissi, commander of the 13th Squadron, better known as the Sword of the Republic. What was such an important admiral doing back from the front?  
  
"My Lords," Jarissi greeted before stepping forward to touch the controls for the holomap, causing it to focus at a location near Quadrant 27. "An alien ship has defeated a small squadron. Preliminary reports indicate the ship to be of Vree design, although there is some confusion about that."  
  
Minister Vitari's eyebrows haughtily climbed up to his hairline. He appeared to fail to see the importance of such a report. "Confusion?"  
  
"Ah...yes," Lord Admiral Jarissi answered. "There is something about Earthers concerning that ship."  
  
Grand Fleet Admiral Dromo leaned forward. He saw what was possibly wrong in the report. "An alliance between the Vree and the Earthers? What were they doing in Centauri space?" Jarissi flushed momentarily in embarrassment. Although Dromo did not say it, criticism was implied. "Perhaps. They were...rescuing a Markab transport from a quarantine action."  
  
Dromo stroked his Baton of Admiralty on the table's edge, considering. Humans do have a tendency to help where they were not needed. "Mmmm. I would not have expected the Earthers to be this clever. Attacking Royal Navy ships without breaking the peace between Centauri and Earth. How...unusually Centauri of them."  
  
Lord Tavastani could see that Jarissi wasn't finished. He gestured for the Lord Admiral to continue.  
  
"Lords...there is more." Jarissi was getting a little nervous, fidgeting, as eyes turned upon him. Minister Vitari contemptuously said, "Oh?" He would have preferred Jarissi to report everything at once. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you see it, information is a prime commodity in the Game of Houses.  
  
"It seems...that the ship has energy shields quite similar to what the Abbai have."  
  
Centauri bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. The Abbai has always refused to share or even sell their vaunted shield technology, something which even the Minbari did not have. To divulge the secrets of their shield technology was to violate their most fundamental beliefs in peace and harmony.  
  
Minister Vitari put a finger to his chin while looking at the silent Minister of Intelligence. "Oh really? Perhaps there is some among the League worlds now. I'm sure the League governments and Earth would deny any knowledge of this. They may be secretly preparing for something against the Republic." He gave a meaningful look at Dromo. For all the undeserved hereditary position he had, Dromo wasn't a fool.  
  
Grand Fleet Admiral Dromo picked up his baton, standing straight. He now knew what to do. "Step up the assault on the Narn worlds. We may need to activate some of Lord Refa's plans for the League. We cannot attack openly, but this ship of Vree design gives us a pretext. They must learn the lesson that the Corillians learned earlier in the war." The Corillians had thought to take advantage of the Narn invasion of the Republic, but their homeworld was now a conquered world of the Centauri Republic. "Order the fleet admirals and captains to prepare for an assault on one of the Vree worlds. Borrow ships from the Defense Fleet, if you have to."  
  
War Minister Vitari dipped his head in respectful agreement, however thin the respect was. "Which world, Grand Fleet Admiral?"  
  
Dromo pondered. The Vree had many powerful ships. He would prefer not opening a second front in the war, but a preemptive strike may keep this front from getting too dangerous and arduous for the Republic. Occupation may not be necessary until after the Narns are dealt with. Just a strike at their main military capability, shipyards for example. Perhaps they should distract the Vree from the real target, like destroying their outpost at Gliese 86. He could take care of that by himself. That would help open up the way to the Narn homeworld, thereby garner more honor for House Dromo. Yes, that's it.  
  
"Photikar." 


	7. Whispers of Kali

_I apologize for being so late in posting my story. I had to be out of the country to deal with a family death. I'm making up for it with this chapter._

_AlbertG: I have similar problems with separating section of my story. I've tried to amend that with asterisks, but the program somehow doesn't accept that. So for now, the asterisks are "VVVVV"._

_Janusi: Oh the Borg are in the right galaxy...you'll see._

_Bolo and The Sithspawn: RAFO (Read And Find Out)_

_Thanks for urging me to continue writing this story._

_It would also help when you give me critique/constructive criticism, so flame away!_

* * *

"How many valiant men, how many fair ladies,

breakfast with their kinfolk and the same night

supped with their ancestors in the next world!"

—The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio,

Writer, and Ambassador for the Republic of Florence,

circa 1349-1351, Earth

A Black King gripped in Vulcan fingers moved to the king's attack board B-1.

Spock looked at his friend through the structure of the tridimensional chess board. He had long ago shut out the noises of the Recreation Deck. It would seem that his friend's mind was not entirely on the chess game. He could easily guess what was distracting him.

"Jim, I am confident that we will save the Markab."

Kirk looked up from his chess pieces. He shouldn't be surprised that his best friend knew exactly what was bothering him. He smiled weakly.

"I know, Spock. What I'm worried about is the Markab theocratic government. Will they be receptive? They've certainly didn't prove receptive to the dangers of the neurovirus killing their people."

Spock tilted his head in agreement. "Logic will force them to open their eyes to the neurovirus." He added upon seeing Kirk's look of skepticism, "Granted that religious fanaticism has defied logic for centuries." Spock turned his head to look at a female ensign acting as waitress in the Recreation Deck. Upon catching her eyes, he asked for a glass of water.

Kirk sighed. "Earth has far too much experience with religion as part of the political process. It has been a dangerous combination for us. Combine religion with politics and treason becomes heresy and vice versa. In spite of the best intentions of priests and politicians, such a combination inevitably becomes repressive for the society governed."

Kirk distractedly moved a White Bishop to attack Spock's surviving Tower. He continued speaking. "But what I don't understand is religious fanaticism's tendency to allow plagues to take their courses. Surely, it is in the interests of a powerful religious institution to find measures against plagues. People would then follow the institution more faithfully than before. Still, it's best when people help themselves instead of waiting for a god to take care of everything."

The serving ensign brought a glass of cold water to Spock who then drank from it. The pretty female ensign also brought a glass of frozen mudslide. "Captain, compliments of the galley." She smiled brightly, standing close to Kirk. Kirk, barely hiding an expression of annoyance, thanked her. "Is there anything else, Captain Kirk?" The ensign's friendliness and physical closeness irritated the captain. Maybe he shouldn't have played chess in the Recreation Deck. However, he needed to show that he was not aloof from the ship's crew. Seeing their captain among them would comfort their loneliness in this universe. The ensign was making cow eyes at Kirk. His irritation flared. "Will you stop hovering over me, ensign?"

The pretty ensign was taken aback. She made a short curtsy and hurried off to serve other customers.

Seeing sympathetic amusement in Spock's eyes, Kirk growled, "When we get back to our universe, I will have a discussion with the Commandant of Starfleet Academy about graduating such easily impressed female ensigns."

"Jim, do you not trust yourself around such ensigns?" Spock deadpanned. He was teasing Kirk to cheer him up. His Black King struck down Kirk's White Bishop.

Kirk smiled grimly. What did Spock call him before the V'ger incident? 'T'hy'la.' In the Vulcan language, it meant 'friend/brother/lover.' English has no equivalent of that word. He softened his face towards Spock. "I already have a female to worry about...the _Enterprise_."

Spock's arched eyebrow had an air of amused irony.

"Anyway," Kirk said, pulling the conversation back on the Markab problem, "theocracies have a tendency to find scapegoats for their problems. In the Black Death on Earth, Europeans blamed the Jews for the plague and murdered many of them. I hope we won't find the Markab theocracy to be that foolish. At least the people weren't so foolish as to spread a dangerous plague on purpose."

Spock drank from the glass of water once more before replying to Kirk. "On the contrary, cats, the only effective deterrent other than fire against rats which carried the plague, were murdered for being agents of evil, allowing rats to proliferate. Some of the people were just as guilty of spreading the plague. Flagellants, religious people who whip themselves in repentance for sins, traveled from town to town, showing their faith in forgiveness from divine punishment in the form of the Black Death, unwittingly helping to spread the plague further and faster. Furthermore..."

Kirk threw up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, Spock, so we were as bad as or worse than the Markab. I'm sure that Vulcans never had to deal with theocracies." His White Pawn reached the end of the Black board and was replaced with a White Queen.

Spock arched an eyebrow. "Vulcan had its share of religious fanaticism. Two centuries before the Birth of Surak, the T'Kalasa Empire, an efficient regime not unlike the Nazi regime, sought to save itself from collapse by conquering the theocratic T'Krisei Protectorate. The conquest only served to spread fanaticism among the T'Kalasans who then used T'Krisei warrior monks to harass the failing Sre'Teru Praetorate. Fortunately, by the Birth of Surak, the T'Kalasa Empire had collapsed from overpopulation, contributing to the end of Vulcan's First Age of Expansion. Surakism, while more philosophy than religion, not too unlike Earth's Confucianism, had its own fanatics as well. Vulcan had a civil war over the teachings of Surak shortly before the Earth-Romulan War." He drank from the glass of water again.

Kirk was surprised. He had thought that once Surakism took hold, Vulcan was always a peaceful and harmonious world. "I didn't know that. Was that why the Vulcan military did not help Earth against the Romulans?"

Nodding once, shame tinged Spock's voice. Only with Kirk would he relax his tight Vulcan emotional control. "It was not something we discuss with non-Vulcans. My people had...strayed from the teachings of Surak. 22nd century Vulcans were not so different from Romulans. They were not pacifistic in spite of claims to the contrary; they lied and did not tolerate differences from what the old Vulcan High Command dictated. It took..." Spock frowned subtly. Kirk remained silent, knowing how difficult it is to admit the failings of one's own people, especially when he's really proud of that people. "...a man claiming to be the reincarnation of Surak to bring us back to the original teachings."

It was too difficult to imagine Spock's people gathering armies and facing each other in hostility over the Forge of Vulcan. It was just as difficult to imagine a Vulcan man being insane enough to claim to be his people's revered messiah, unless he somehow took Surak's katra into himself. Which is insane in itself. Kirk wanted to reach out to touch Spock in comfort, but seeing emotions roiling in Spock's eyes, physical contact may be too much for the Vulcan.

The chess game forgotten, Spock said, "Excuse me, Jim. I must meditate." Kirk nodded in understanding. Spock stood up.

Incomprehensibly, Spock swayed on his feet as if he was drunk. Dizziness from standing up too fast? No, that's mainly a human thing. But then Spock was half human.

"Jim..." Spock said weakly. Alarmed, Kirk watched Spock sway once more before collapsing, knocking the table over, scattering the chess pieces and spilling the water and frozen mudslide. With the entire Recreation Deck staring in shock, Kirk rushed to his friend's side, screaming for medical attention.

VVVVVV

"You told me diseases didn't cross species!"

McCoy's eyes were tight in worry and irritation. "Jim, I also said that they could as long as physiologies are similar enough." He glanced as Spock lying on a biobed in Sickbay. The search for a cure for the Drafa neurovirus was now that much more urgent. Oh, he always sees each patient as urgent and important, but Spock was a personal friend, absolutely irreplaceable, dammit!

"Vulcans have specialized cells to carry neural signals in addition to the normal nerves. It's part of what make Vulcan brains so efficient. Unlike the Markab, it's not the only way his brain could send signals. The neurovirus shouldn't have affected him, but it apparently mutated." McCoy stood staring at Kirk, feeling guilty. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty about the actions of a disease, but he should have remembered the Vulcan neural physiology and be aware of the possibility of mutation. Kirk was looking drawn. They were all getting old so personal disasters like this was that much more stressful.

"Jim, let me give you a sedative. Spock is stabilized now. Go to your quarters and rest. We will wake you for any news of Spock's condition and for our arrival at the Markab homeworld."

"No! I must be awake. Something might happen that needs my immediate attention. Last time I slept when I should be awake and alert, we got ourselves an enemy!"

McCoy sighed. Kirk was referring to the battle with the two Centauri warships. "All the more reason to rest up. You will then be very alert for anything, believe me."

Kirk turned to look at Spock helplessly. Spock was breathing hard, but steady. McCoy knew how important Spock was to Kirk. He had long ago accepted that, abandoning any resemblance of jealousy. McCoy remembered when he was dying of a disease, Kirk was sadly resigned to it until the Fabrini, with the help of beautiful Natira, cured him; however, Kirk threw a fit whenever Spock threatened to die. Kirk certainly wasn't as irrational when his brother and sister-in-law died in the neural parasite attack on Deneva Colony.

"Jim, go to your room. You don't want me to pull doctor's prerogative on you." That was a dangerous gamble, McCoy knew. There was no Starfleet Command to turn to. If Jim decided to butt heads with McCoy, it would be damaging to the starship command structure. He has read the ancient Earth novel _Lord of the Flies_ before. It was unusually accurate in showing what would happen when people maintain command structures in the absence of a larger society. Starfleet has procedures about this kind of thing, but it was for when a ship's crew is stranded on a planet or is out of range of subspace communications. Always, it was with the assumption that the crew could somehow return to the Federation and face Starfleet Command's review. That wasn't possible as long as they were stuck in this universe.

James Kirk stared tightly at Dr. McCoy. "All right, Bones," he finally said resignedly. He took a hypospray injection of sedatives before leaving Sickbay. McCoy grunted in approval and returned to the task of curing the Markab, and now Spock, of the Drafa neurovirus.

**In Hyperspace**

T'Sara arranged her robes once more before seating herself in _Hakudo Maru_'s command chair. She had chosen the officious Vulcan robes for today. Even though she wasn't going to meet T'Pau or Ambassador Sarek, it was important to establish good relations with the Earth of this quantum reality in spite of the Earthers' offensive prejudice against mentalics. The main viewscreen showed the roiling red hell of hyperspace and the rear end of the Earth cruiser _Brittany_. The people on the ship have gotten a little used to the sickening view of hyperspace, but the ship's windows were all still darkened or closed.

"How long?"

T'Sara had to suppress the emotion of irritation. The ship lurched gently in hyperspace's gravity currents, as if it was reflecting her own feelings. Dr. John Howard could be really irksome at times. Even if he was one of the most preeminent historians and archaeologists, she would recommend the Federation Archaeology Council to post him on Vulcan. It would give her people a chance practice emotional control and also teach Dr. Howard the virtues of humility and patience.

"We still have 13 minutes and 27 seconds before entering normal space, Doctor." T'Sara answered. She wiped nonexistent dust from a voluminous sleeve. She is the Director and the self-appointed Sub-commander of the _Hakudo Maru_. Dismissing the human, she turned her attention to the computer console set up in front of her. She could hear the annoyed sharp hiss escaping Howard's lips.

"Why?"

T'Sara looked up from the computer console, face impassive. "Excuse me?"

John Howard narrowed his eyes at T'Sara. "You persuaded the Federation Archaeology Council to choose the Titan System for the cultural exchange program between the Federation and Betazed. We had plenty of worlds to choose from, not least the ruins on Tagus III, Kurl, Zeta Tucanae III, the Debrune worlds, and other such worlds that we already know to be safe. Titan V was an unknown, never investigated since Starfleet's charting survey through the sector. So, _Director_ T'Sara...why Titan V?"

A legitimate question, T'Sara had to admit. But it was a question that did not require the answer that came up in her mind.

_T'Sara was at her family estate on Vulcan studying the documents she had ordered brought from the Archives. She was looking for clues and facts about the Ko N'ya. The Devil's Heart. An object of legend on Vulcan as well as other worlds. Worlds that believe in magic believe it to be Darkness' mightiest talisman, while worlds of science think it was a lost artifact of an ancient and forgotten race. A fragment of a fragment hinted at Surak in connection with the Ko N'ya, something about 'the blood never stops flowing.' Andoria has stories of it, calling it Telev's Bane. What she wouldn't give to lay her hands on the Devil's Heart._

"_Hello, T'Sara."_

_The voice, definitely not Vulcan, startled her. Had she missed the commscreen trilling for her attention? It wouldn't be the first time with her nose buried in ancient books and scrolls. But to open frequencies without her permission is extremely rude._

_She turned around. It was a man standing in the middle of her room. Surprised, she stood up, intending to call security. Except...T'Sara tilted her head, doubting her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was a man. It was more like a grey shadow, giving the barest of hints at the figure's features. The humanoid figure looked like it was a hologram. Vulcan has much better holotechnology than this._

"_Who are you?"_

_The figure chuckled. "A dangerous question. If I answer it, it might change certain events."_

_T'Sara frowned. A most illogical answer._

"_Do not worry about my identity. What matters is the Devil's Heart."_

_T'Sara perked up at that. She nodded for him to continue. She wondered if the hologram could see her._

_Amazingly, it could. "While I cannot tell you its exact location, I can point you the way. Right about now, the Federation Council should be approving a program of cultural exchanges through archaeology. You should join that program. You are already prestigious enough for the Archaeology Council to listen to you."_

_T'Sara was still uneasy about the strangeness of this. "How does this benefit you?"_

"_Ah, the famous sharp mind of T'Sara of Vulcan," the figure said. "The Federation deserves some improvement to itself for the tasks it has ahead of itself."_

_The person, T'Sara still couldn't pinpoint the gender if it has one, kept hinting at an ability to travel through time. "Are you from the future?"_

_Laughter rang out. "I shouldn't have judged your mind through historical accounts." The figure seemed to be staring, considering T'Sara. "I failed before. Perhaps I would do better now. My associates and I have a...form of cold war across temporal fronts. The Ko N'ya would help the Federation very much, especially Vulcan. Only a logical Vulcan could control the Devil's Heart and remain the same. Someone like the great T'Sara."_

_To touch the Devil's Heart...how far would she go for it? Perhaps...rent out her katra for a while? That was uncomfortably close to the truth. She nodded in agreement._

"_Then go to Titan V. There, you will find artifacts pointing the way to the Heart of Darkness."_

Dr. John Howard was still waiting for an answer. The unconventional answer of having a hunch that she gave to colleagues would not do for relentless Dr. Howard. T'Sara merely said, "It was suggested by one knowledgeable about such worlds." Perhaps it had been a mistake to trust the mysterious person. 'He' must have calculated to remove T'Sara from the Federation's timeline. She wondered if this...temporal cold war extended into this quantum reality.

"Coming out of hyperspace," said the helmsman. T'Sara could see a vortex ripping a hole in the barrier between hyperspace and normal space. As yet, she could not see normal space through the vortex. The _Brittany_ elongated and vanished into the vortex. T'Sara soon felt her universe stretch and felt herself pushed into her seat as the red Vulcan-built ship rushed out of the red hell into normal space.

**Enterprise-A**

A planet expanded slowly in the main viewscreen. It reminded Kirk of a darker Mars or Vulcan. What he could see through serenely moving clouds, it was dry and rough with small seas here and there, some green in several places. Other than that, he couldn't see much. Smoke and dust clouds roiled. Many of the Markab cities were burning. They wouldn't know more till they got closer. The _Enterprise_ was still hours from Markab.

"Any ship in the system?"

"Yes, Keptin," Chekov answered. He looked a little unsettled. "But...almost all are adrift. As far as the sensors could tell, their crews are dead or dying." A beep sounded from the sensors. "Keptin, a ship's moving. Not to us."

"Onscreen. Uhura, hail them."

The main viewscreen magnified to show a Markab warship. Its dull golden brown hull was highlighted by the Markab sun. The shine on the triple hull glowed brighter. Horrified, the bridge crew realized that the ship was making for the sun. Uhura shook her head. "No response."

Kirk gaped aghast. It reminded him all too vividly of the disaster at Deneva when a Denevan ship plunged itself into the Denevan sun to save itself from the parasite attackers. He could still see his brother Samuel Kirk dead on Deneva and his sister-in-law Aurelan Kirk dying in Sickbay. At least his nephew Peter Kirk survived and was brought to Starbase 10.

Kirk pressed a button on his command chair. "Engineering, how much more power can you put in the warp core?"

Scotty fingered his black environmental collar, wondering what else Kirk would do to tear the _Enterprise_ apart in a place where there's no possibility of help from Starfleet. "Captain Kirk, the lass' doing all she could. If we make her go faster, the warp bubble will collapse and we will arrive in pieces instead of in peace! Captain, we must get to a starbase for full repairs!"

"I know, Scotty, I know. Can't you draw power from other sources?"

Montgomery Scott blew past his mustache. He glanced at the other engineers scurrying about in their white radiation suits topped by their own black environmental collars. "If you really want more power in the engines, then you be wanting many decks in the saucer section to depressurize. The forcefields and bulkheads over the breaches keeping the crew alive will go off to give us just a wee bit more speed. Do you still want more speed?"

Kirk sighed. "No. Thanks, Scotty."

"I'm sorry, Jim."

Sometimes you can't do everything in spite of what you might like to think. Spock. _T'hy'la_. He's still lying sick down in Sickbay. He'd hate to know what he would do if Spock died again. No. He already had some idea, thanks to the alien transpatial device. His grief had destroyed the Klingon Empire and the Federation in an alternate life. He would let the galaxy burn. He glanced around the bridge. No Starfleet Command to watch over his shoulder. What he could do with the power of the _Enterprise_ at his fingertips.

"_Caesar of the Stars," Lenore Karidian, daughter of Kodos the Executioner, whispered._

No. That way lies darkness.

Kirk sat back and watched helplessly as the dull golden Markab warship plunged into the glaring light of the Markab sun. Unknown number of souls burned in the light, finally cleansed and free from the Dark Angel of Drafa. "Mr. Chekov, return view to the Markab homeworld. Maintain course and speed. Uhura, you have the conn." He stood and went into the turbolift.

VVVVVVV

"How is he?"

McCoy automatically glanced at the life readings even though he did not need to. He intimately knew the diagnostic. "He's stabilized. Actually, his contracting the Drafa neurovirus may be a good thing."

"What?!"

"Calm down, Jim. Do you want the sedatives again? Perhaps I should have explained first. Having Drafa happen to a species I'm familiar with helps a lot. I've found something that could be a cure." Kirk's eyes brightened with hope. McCoy looked through his office window at the Markab still sick and at Spock lying on a biobed. "Not really a cure....Actually, I created another virus. A counter-virus. What it does is it 'reprograms' the Drafa neurovirus into repairing, perhaps even improving on the damages it has done." McCoy looked down at a vial filled with clear liquid. "It was as close as I could get to genetic engineering without breaking the Federation laws against eugenics. For some, the patients will return to what they have always been before. For a few others...well, I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be smarter than before, more intellectually efficient. As if Spock needs to be more efficient in his Vulcan brains!"

Kirk said, "But that's wonderful!" He frowned, though. "Isn't that...eugenics? Improving the neural performance of beings? No matter, as long as Spock's all right!" He brightened again.

Dr. McCoy nodded slowly. Eugenics. He hoped the Starfleet Medical Board wouldn't reprimand him for his work. Those medical bureaucrats should see that an entire species' existence was at stake! He was tired. His work on Drafa should be enough to earn him a medal from the Federation Council. He continued, "Now...how are we going to cure an entire world? We can't just beam down and start inoculating them. We don't have the number to do that. That is, if their priests don't lynch us first."

Kirk smiled. "I've been thinking on that one. The Markab government will most likely not be receptive to our help, so we'll do it for them. Do you remember what Spock asked of you at Khitomer?"

Dr. McCoy was confused now. Khitomer? Wasn't that in another universe entirely? "Jim, what are you yapping about? There's millions, if not billions, dying down there!"

Kirk grinned, giddy over McCoy's discovery of a cure for Drafa. "He said something like.... 'Have you ever performed surgery on a torpedo?'" His eyes gleamed in mischief.

McCoy's eyes widened in realization. "You don't mean...?"

"Yes! Perform the surgery on several torpedoes!"

McCoy brightened. Perhaps a world need not die after all! "Nurse! Get the other doctors on the double! Have them meet me in the torpedo bay! Have the synthesizers make tons of the counter-virus!"

VVVVVV

The _Enterprise_ was now in orbit around Markab, still unchallenged by local ships.

"We are now in the optimal orbit as per my calculations," reported Spock. Kirk was happy to see the Vulcan at his station, all cured and walking in spite of the haggard look in the eyes.

"Now, Mr. Chekov!"

Modified torpedoes shot out of the Federation starship. Each of them maneuvered toward a major city of Markab. On the planet, flaring red stars were seen to streak through the sky. Each of the stars transformed themselves into a mini-nova, turning night into day where they were on the night side. Each nova rapidly spread a new virus upon most of the Markab homeworld, glittering down to the planet surface. It was a deconstruction of falling stars. The Markab people would finally know the light of hope and life. Only if it wasn't too late.

**Janos 7, Earth Outpost.**

An Earth space station rotated in its orbit around the seventh planet of the Janos System. Four spokes radiated from the central docking hub to the station ring. Four ships could be seen in the vicinity of the space station. Dark grey, blue-white, red and black.

The _Hakudo Maru_ approached away from the jumpgate, escorted by the Hyperion-class cruiser _Brittany_.

Laurel Takashima should be feeling relieved to turn the responsibility of the red alien ship over to others. But the black ship hanging out there made her nervous. She still had not received a response from Earth Central, but obviously, this is the response.

EarthForce is planning something. And the PsiCorps is involved. Or is it the other way around?

Laurel squinted at the other EarthForce ship. It was easily identified as Omega class. She had to wait until the _Brittany _was close enough to the Earth destroyer for her to read its name emblazoned on its gun metal grey armor.

"Malin, do you know what ship that is?"

Commander Reza Malin looked at the information that the scanning officer relayed to his station. He gaped, eyes wide. "Ummm...Captain, it's the _Ares_."

Laurel's head snapped to Malin. The _Ares_? The darling ship of "the Firestorm," "the Scourge of Janos 7," General Richard Franklin. General Franklin's specialty was in infantry rather than space combat. However, he had the power to order space action. Is he part of whatever EarthForce's planning?

VVVVVVV

"Most fascinating. You say you're from another universe? You sure you have no way of getting back there? What a pity...Interplanetary Expeditions would go absolutely gaga over _that_." Matthias Thurn, the military governor of Janos 7 peered at T'Sara.

"Indeed," T'Sara said noncommittally.

"Director, if you don't mind my asking...." Captain Thurn could afford to be curious about things beyond the limitations of his orders. "Your ship's name..._Hakudo Maru_. It's human even though the ship was built by your people."

"That is correct, Captain." T'Sara knew that knowledge to be harmless. "As the _Shi'Mar_, it served the Vulcan High Command in a war preceding the founding of the Federation. As part of Vulcan's agreement with other member worlds to eventually phase out their own space fleets in favor of Starfleet, many ships were either given to Starfleet Command to do with as they will or were sold to other agencies within the Federation. A wealthy human merchant bought the _Shi'Mar_ and renamed it accordingly. The merchant apparently had a sense of humor."

"I'll bet," said Thurn as he pressed a button to open a door. "Hakudo Maru was an ancient Japanese god who came from beyond Earth's sky to teach humans how to build ships. Did your people bring interstellar travel to the Earthers of your universe like the Centauri did to us?" Matthias Thurn did not really believe that these aliens came from another universe. They had to be lying in order to cover up the existence of their own empire beyond the Rim. Earth must know everything possible about that empire before sending ships in that direction. This Federation of theirs seems a perfect example of alien influences corrupting humans. It won't do to have another Minbari War. Such a war could be prevented by humoring these aliens' tales.

"No. Humans developed the warp drive themselves. A Vulcan survey ship detected their first warp flight test and contacted Earth."

The Czech man smiled. Another tidbit of information from the clueless alien! Vulcans seem to be just as arrogant as the Minbari. "We are not averse to humor in EarthForce ourselves. It is said that Captain Takashima's ship got the name because some bright administrator thought it could cast a shadow on Earth as large as the French region of Brittany." He chuckled. The alien woman didn't even crack a smile. She reminded him of the school frau he had in Prague on Earth. The frau was such a bitch. T'Sara and Thurn finally arrived at another door, flanked by two guards. Thurn took out an identicard and swiped it in a console beside the door. As the heavy door slid sideway and up, Captain Thurn bowed politely. "Ladies, first."

T'Sara quirked an eyebrow. "How quaint. Ancient human chivalry seems to be a constant between the two Earths."

The military governor of Janos 7 smiled widely. "Thank you." He swiped the identicard once more and the door fell shut. T'Sara glanced around impassively at the spartan room and reached her hands into the voluminous sleeves of her flowing robes.

T'Sara was now a prisoner of EarthForce.

VVVVVV

"Hello, Captain Takashima."

"Doctor."

Dr. John Howard smiled. "There's no need to stand on formality between us anymore. What can I do for you?"

Laurel Takashima had to keep smiling. Orders straight from General Franklin himself at Earth Central. She could see Lady Neclauna fiddling with someone else in the back of the alien bridge. She was grateful for the fact that even P12 telepaths cannot sense emotions over a commvid. Whatever sense they could get is from the natural skill of reading body language, honed over years of matching body languages with the thoughts and emotions in the person's mind. Still...she felt nervous and, would you believe it, a small spot of guilt. There would be war with the Federation if ever there was direct contact however unlikely that is and they find out about this. Still...teeps and teeks shouldn't be allowed to run around loose in the galaxy, especially those who appear human.

"John, there's a shuttle coming to your ship. Investigators, of course." At least that was the truth.

"Of course." The preeminent historian from Mars nodded at a crewman to open the shuttle bay doors. The ship's sensors would show the shuttle to be filled with 60 people.

Laurel Takashima leaned forward in her harnessed chair. She had to keep acting to follow her orders. The guilt bloomed. If only they could see the trap! Her eyes wandered over to the black ship hanging outside. A PsiCorps transport, which was really a modified star liner. She wondered once more why the PsiCorps chose the chilling black color for their uniforms and ships. The Omega class destroyer _EAS Ares_ was moving into position in concert with the _Brittany_.

If only they could see!

Neclauna Nore raised her head up to look straight at Laurel Takashima's eyes. Neclauna raised a hand toward Dr. Howard. Could it be that Lady Neclauna is stronger than P12? She must have sensed something.

"John..." Neclauna was beginning to say. She was interrupted by a crewman. "Doctor! There's a report of weapons fire in the shuttle bay!"

Howard gawked at the crewman, shocked. Betrayal. The Betazoid noblewoman, however, was made of harder stock. "Shields! Shields! We must—" The communication screen shut down, blocking Laurel from the view. She slumped back into her chair, going over further orders. She whispered to the blank screen, "I'm sorry. I must obey my superiors."

VVVVV

The Federation humans, Betazoids and the occasional rare Vulcan had taken what phasers and lasers they could find. The most effective weapon beside the few handheld phasers was the portable archaeological laser drill. Against them were PPG guns and rifles wielded by armored and helmeted EarthForce troops. Already, they had broken through the shuttle bay entrance, forcing the Federationers to fall back through the _Hakudo Maru_'s corridors. Since the Federationers did not wear armor and were mostly academicians, the EarthForce soldiers set their PPGs power to as low as possible, thus capable of merely wounding instead of killing. Unfortunately, the few weaker academicians caught in the fire were killed. But the soldiers were not without casualties.

The black uniforms of PsiCops hovered in the back of the boarding force, occasionally firing their own PPGs and throwing mental spikes to confuse the Federationers' minds.

Outside, the EarthForce ships detected energy spikes in the _Hakudo Maru_. The red ship maneuvered away. The _Ares_ fired with laser cannons. The damage inflicted on the alien shields were only due to the greater power of the cannons. The Vulcan-built ship returned fire with phasers. Finding it a harder prey to subdue, the _Brittany_ joined in the combat, and the _Ares_ switched to particle cannons. StarFuries were launched to strafe the ship. Both EarthForce ships were ordered to only disable the red ship, just enough to allow the boarders to hijack it. As long as those shields were still up, the breaching pod hovering for later action could not approach.

The corridor shook once more with a vibrating boom. Neclauna threw out a hand on a wall to steady herself. That wasn't weapons fire. She lurched to an intraship communicator and pounded the activation button. "Bridge! What was that?"

"The warp core's offline! A few of the soldiers broke through and set off a form of explosive before we could cut them down!"

The situation has become grim.

Neclauna was trying to get to her own weapon and defend the ship against the boarders. She'd left Dr. Howard in charge once he found the mettle to command the situation. The corridor jumped to weapons fire from other ships. Now she could hear the whine of phasers and the pulses of the PPGs coming from around a bend of the corridor.

She paused and turned down another corridor to bypass the boarders to her quarters. Sensing another mind ahead, she skidded to a halt. She could feel the mind casting about, searching. It was almost amateurish, obviously depending on line of sight, but sharp. She began building her mental block as quickly as possible, an image of ancient fortified walls coming up in her mind. Pennants and banners bearing the sigil of the Fourth House were already fluttering atop nearly completed towers. She willed the wall to be invulnerable.

The core of cold arrogance quickly came closer and closer. Neclauna stood ramrod straight. She strengthened herself by thinking in her best tone of aristocracy, _I am a Daughter of the Fourth House. Who dares come in my way?_

The core came to a corner and gave Lady Neclauna the sight of a man in a black uniform, wearing black gloves. The light glinted off his badge. She recognized the symbol on the badge from Laurel Takashima's mind. A Psi symbol. So. This is a minion of the feared PsiCorps.

Upon seeing the Betazoid woman standing like a queen as if she had summoned him rather then wait for him, the PsiCop's mind seized hers. The PsiCop's mind was unbelievably aggressive, honed by a form of training forbidden on Betazed although not as refined as she could see from the ancient records sealed by the Betazoid government. Terribly, she coveted the PsiCop's intrusive ability.

Her mental block trembled under the assault. Furious about her moment of temptation, Neclauna reached out to the other mind and grappled with it. Even though the PsiCop was strong, she had finesse. He battered at her walls and found them too well established. The image came of a battering ram hitting again and again at the fortified walls. If any non-telepath saw them, he would only see two people staring at each other fiercely. The stare was no less deadly than the firefight occurring on and outside the ship. The noblewoman silently laughed and left the PsiCop battering on her walls. She slipped from behind a wall, forming a dagger of rage, rage at the betrayal and violation by EarthForce. While Betazoids were never trained in mental aggression, some could roughly do it. She stabbed the dagger deep into the PsiCop's mind.

A shriek of pain escaped the PsiCop's lips and soundlessly poured down his mental link into Neclauna's mind. She savagely twisted the dagger and the man could not endure it anymore. He fainted.

She stood over the body of the PsiCop, studying the man who would dare capture a Daughter of the Fourth House. She breathed slightly harder than normal. While he was a powerful telepath by the standards of Earth, she was a member of a people whose mentalics existed longer than recorded history.

The stamping footfalls of a soldier brought her attention up from the unconscious man. The soldier stopped in his tracks and looked at Neclauna. Thinking that Neclauna had just murdered the PsiCop, he swung a PPG rifle around at her. Neclauna's mind rushed to grapple with the soldier, causing him to pause. She must survive.

She sensed another mind. How did she not detect that mind until now? The distraction weakened her hold on the soldier's mind. But then a weapons fire rocked the ship, distracting her further. It was costly. It allowed the armored soldier to regain control and shot the Betazoid. She fell backward from the impact of the shot.

The other mind sensed Neclauna dying before she hit the deck. Neclauna's mind withdrew into itself and seemed to retreat through a tunnel, disappearing into it.

Anguish filled that mind. It struck at the soldier savagely, going on primal instinct. The white-hot primal rage drilled into his brains, severing some connections roughly in the way. The soldier died long before his body was aware of his death.

A stunningly beautiful woman came out of an opening door, her face twisted into a mask carved from ice, her eyes dark pools of fire. Liria Satarah turned her head toward the noise of the gunfire down the corridor. When her eyes fell down to the body of Neclauna, the black Betazoid eyes staring at the ceiling glassily, Liria trembled imperceptibly. Looking over at the unconscious PsiCop, her face screwed into an ugly visage of rage for a second before the mask of ice returned. She squared her shoulders, turned her Deltan pheromones on to full blast and honed her mind like a sword, and turned to walk headlong into the firefight ahead. These Earthers would pay for this.

VVVVVVV

Dr. John Howard was out of his element. The _Hakudo Maru_ was only a civilian ship, albeit armed. In the main viewscreen, Howard could see the ships and space station exchanging weapons fire. Phasers, lasers, particle beams crisscrossed the night. The ship bucked once more as a missile exploded against the shields. T'Sara was still on that space station, so they were being careful not to blow it out of the sky. But the problem was those EarthForce warships. Heavily armored, heavily armed....EarthForce was certainly a lot more militant than Starfleet. Federation civilians were spoiled if they thought that Starfleet was too militant.

Reports were coming through that the tide of battle was turning against the boarders. Obviously, the Earth warships got word of that too, judging by how much harder they were fighting to disable the ship.

"Move us to close to that space station and away from those ships," ordered Dr. Howard. He may be a civilian, but he knew the military expediency of leaving no prisoners for the enemy to use. Surely, Starfleet crews could handle those ships better than his people ever could.

It was a plus that his people were not Starfleet-trained. Otherwise, they may be constrained by annoying rules. He had had enough of that huge dark grey warship. "Fire photon torpedoes."

The glowing red torpedoes sped out of the red ship to impact on the front of the _Ares_, destroying the fighter bay. Two of the torpedoes missed the front, but hit the rotating section of the Omega class destroyer, disrupting the rotation. However, the _Hakudo Maru_'s shields were still weakening, so it wasn't enough. They had to leave this system.

The helmsman called out, "We're close enough to the station!"

Howard gave the signal to drop shields and begin transport.

"We have her!" yelled the transporter technician over the intercom. Of course. T'Sara is the only Vulcan biosign on that station.

Then a massive explosion shook the _Hakudo Maru_ and the ship violently pitched, throwing almost everyone aboard off balance. Screams were ringing throughout the ship along with the clatter and crash of objects and equipments not tied or screwed down.

The _Hakudo Maru_ was listing to the side, debris pouring from under the tapering tail of the ship.

"Wha...what happened?" Dr. Howard picked himself up from the deck.

"While the shields were down, they shot at the impulse engines. They're down."

Shit! Dr. John Howard was not looking forward to being in an interrogation room, being brutally plumbed of all information. He must survive at all costs. He highly doubted that survival was possible while he was put to the question. He jumped out of his chair and ran into the turbolift.

Coming out of the turbolift in another deck, he ran. There was only one way to survive: leave this damned place. The impulse engines were as good as destroyed and the warp core was offline. The only way the ship could move was by maneuvering thrusters and they wouldn't do much in orbit of Janos 7 for his survival.

Rounding a corner, he tripped over a body. His fall was softened by another body. He hurriedly scrambled off the bodies and looked back at them. One of them, at least, was still alive, breathing. The unconscious man was not armored and helmeted like the dead soldier. He could not see any wound on them, but he did see that a PPG fell out of the unconscious man's holster. Howard grabbed the PPG gun and continued running, gripping the weapon close to his own body. It wouldn't do to trip over a living _conscious_ EarthForce soldier unarmed.

Panting, he finally arrived at his intended destination. A double door with twin snakes coiling around a caduceus painted on it. His approach opened the door. Finding no one in the ship's darkened infirmary, he walked quickly over to a bed. He stared grimly down at the woman lying in the bed. Giuliana Margolis, the Starfleet liaison and observer, still in a coma from the transit into this universe.

And the only chance for them to escape this debacle.

Dr. Howard was well versed in basic medicine from his archaeological practice out in the field far from civilization. Field medicine had saved his life among the ruins on Yadalla Prime.

He gingerly picked up a vial of the strongest stimulant he could see on the drug rack and clicked it into a hypospray. All of them need to survive and Giuliana was the best hope for that.

"What are you doing?"

John Howard whirled around. It was Doctor Nashiin. The Oran'taku woman stepped into the light closer to Howard, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion. Her beauty was marred by a bruise on her head received when she fell against her desk in the space battle. She caught sight of the hypospray just as the archaeologist thrust it behind his back.

"John....What. Are. You. Doing?"

John Howard sighed and turned on his charm as much as possible. "We need Lieutenant Margolis. If we don't wake her, we're all going to die." The charm, unfortunately, was a waste on the professional older woman. Nashiin peered at him in a no-nonsense way.

"Give me that. That kind of stimulant would wake her, but it would crash her system. Giuliana may not survive that." The Oran'taku held out an open hand.

Howard smiled ingratiatingly, hiding his frustration at the narrowness of smaller minds. He pulled his hand out from behind his back. Instead of the hypospray, the hand now held an EarthForce PPG gun. Plasma pulses lit up the dim infirmary. Dr. Nashiin fell dead with a smoking plasma burn in her chest. Anyone investigating would think EarthForce did it. No one must stand in the way of his survival.

He turned back to the bed and pressed the hypospray onto Giuliana's neck, squirting the entire content of the vial into her carotid artery.

Lieutenant Giuliana Margolis gasped awake, her eyes snapping open. She looked at Howard in frightened confusion.

"No time for questions. We need your help, Giulie. The warp core's offline and we may die here."

Giuliana gasped once more as the news caused her natural adrenaline to flow into a bloodstream already heavily saturated with stimulant. She nodded in wordless agreement. She must do her Starfleet duty to protect the lives of Federation citizens. Howard helped her up from the bed and half dragged, half-carried her out the door in the direction of Engineering.

Reaching Engineering proved not an easy task as Howard had to help Giuliana over bodies strewn in the corridors and past damages, and all the while, the ship shook under fire from the Earth warships.

The matter/antimatter annihilation column sat silent and dark in the center of Engineering, almost too big for the chamber which was built for a fusion-powered warp engine. Howard had to put his ear close to Giuliana's lips for hoarse whispers of instructions.

"Bring me over there." She weakly and tremblingly pointed at a console. She was beginning to lose control of her neural functions in her body. If John Howard did not know better, he would have thought she was beginning to display symptoms of the ancient Parkinson's Syndrome.

Giuliana panted as she fiddled with the controls of the console. "We have to cold-start the warp core. It's a new core, so it'll handle it." The ship shook once more, this time with a booming sound.

The shields were failing and that booming sound meant that EarthForce weapons had penetrated the shields, impacting the hull itself. A croaking hum rose in the Engineering chamber. The central column began to glow. John Howard excitedly adjusted the thruster controls to maneuver the ship to the direction back out of the Earth Alliance. When he was done, he shouted his congratulations to Giuliana. A gurgling gasp cut off Howard's enthusiasm. He turned to the Starfleet liaison.

Lt. Giuliana Margolis was lying crumpled at the foot of the core activation console. Her body had finally succumbed to the shock of the stimulant that Howard injected her. She was dead. Howard sighed disappointedly.

VVVVVV

Captain Laurel Takashima exhaled. She was astounded by the enduring presence of those force shields around the alien red ship. As far as she knew, only the Abbai had the technology and not even the most expert techrunner had ever succeeded in ferreting out the secret of _that_ technology. And those energy weapons...if the scanner readings were correct, the alien ship fed very little power to the weapons, yet they were comparably more effective than EarthForce's energy weapons. And those torpedoes....The Vree had similar antimatter weapons, but Earth Special Projects had so far failed even to reverse-engineer what Vree antimatter weapons Earth could get in any way.

And now...just on the verge of disabling the _Hakudo Maru_, the aliens somehow succeeded in restarting the ship's very strange FTL engines, and Laurel was treated to the sight of the red ship stretching itself toward the edge of the Janos System and snapping itself into a blooming blue-white flower. She couldn't believe it. They actually had the technology to go faster than light in normal space!

In a way, she was glad. She activated her personal tachcomm and typed in an encrypted message, and sent it off in the direction of the _Hakudo Maru_. Perhaps not even tachyon could catch up with the alien Federation research ship.

Laurel's lips attempted to tug themselves into a smile. General Franklin and Captain Thurn are going to be furious and humiliated at being bested by a mere research ship crewed by academicians!

Absent-mindedly and detached from herself, her fingers typed in another encrypted message and sent it off to Mars.


	8. Interlude: Admirals and Ambassadors

_eddys: Photon torpedoes of the Movie Era were weaker than those in TNG. Witness the battles in _Undiscovered Country_ and in _Wrath of Khan_. Even against unshielded ships, photon torpedoes of the time did not completely blow them out of space at one hit. ST ships generally did not have the very thick armor of B5 warships due to dependence on shields. It took multiple torpedo hits from both _Enterprise_ and _Excelsior_ to completely destroy General Chang's prototype ship at Khitomer. This reflects the evolution of weapons' strength in real life. The atomic bomb in 1945 was strong enough to flatten a city (Hiroshima and Nagasaki) and today, the strength of the atomic bomb has increased to being enough to burn an entire region. Plus, would Starfleet allow a _civilian_ ship to have weapons as powerful as those on warships? By definition, such ships would potentially be pirate ships. The _Hakudo Maru_ only had weapons (albeit weaker) because of the wealth and foresight of the merchant who bought the ship from the Vulcans._

_This part of the story may seem really not part of the main story you've been reading so far. But it serves a purpose for my universes. Remember the Kam'Jahtae at the beginning of the story?_

_Flames are welcome!_

* * *

_Captain's Log, Stardate 8693.15. We are long overdue for shore leave at the end of the three years mission to explore the Beta Quadrant. Understandably, shore leave has been delayed by the events surrounding the Gorkon Initiative and Camp Khitomer. We have been ordered to Starbase 10 for a briefing, and diplomats at Camp Khitomer have taken the opportunity to use my ship as a taxi service. Once at the starbase, I will be glad to be rid of them, especially Ambassador Curzon Dax. If Trills are really as flamboyant and arrogant as the ambassador, I'll eat Klingon gagh. We will be picking up new crewmen at the starbase once the briefing is finished. While I do not know what the briefing will be about, I have my guesses._

_I also have the sad duty to transport the body of Lieutenant Dmitri Valtane, who died in the failed attempt to enter Klingon space at the Azure Nebula. His body will be given to relatives coming to the starbase for him. Ensign Tuvok is affected by the death. I am confident that as a Vulcan, he will recover. Perhaps the Argelian suggestion of posting psychiatrists on starships has merit._

The huge Trojan-class starbase hung in the starry night of space. Out here on the frontier, the starbase would be dark if not for the bright dot of the star of Cheron two light-years away. Replacing the old asteroid starbase in 2285, it was the same as Earth SpaceDock, though slightly smaller. Several ships, both civilian and Starfleet, slowly approached and departed the starbase. Several of the civilian craft were docking at the Commercial Sector bulging at the middle of the starbase's stem. A Federation starship cruised into this neighborhood.

"Coming out of warp at the starbase, sir," called out Lieutenant Angelo Tiffe.

Captain Hikaru Sulu sipped at the cup of green tea. He would be glad to go on shore leave on a resort planet somewhere. "Thank you, Mr. Tiffe. Hail the dock master, Ms. Rand."

Lieutenant Commander Janice Rand adjusted frequencies and turned to Captain Sulu. "Control Tower reading, sir."

Sulu smiled. At last. He would be finally be rid of those spoiled diplomats with their ideas of their own importance. His crew would finally relax after three full years of duty. The short shore leave on Khitomer wasn't enough. "Control, this is the _Excelsior_ requesting permission to dock."

"This is Control. _Excelsior_, you are granted to dock. 30 seconds for the port gates."

One of the massive bay doors on the mushroom-top-shaped drydock section of the starbase slowly slid open.

Lieutenant Commander Lojur called out, "Shutting down impulse engines. Switching to thrusters."

Sulu sat back comfortably in his command chair, warming his hands on the teacup, shutting out the noise of the crew maneuvering his starship into the starbase and enjoying the view.

The _Excelsior_ slipped through the bay doors into the vast drydock hangar. Once the nacelles cleared the bay doors, the huge gates began to slowly slide shut. Several starships were already docked or waiting at the sidelines for their turns. Shuttles and maintenance pods flitted about the ships and between distant parts of the drydock. The guiding light beams stabbing through the diffuse blue-white glow of the airless atmosphere directed the starship to a particular berth at the massive column in the center of the cavernous drydock.

When the docking procedure was completed and the airlocks were extending themselves to the starship, Sulu stood up from his chair, muttering, "Time to face the music."

xxxxxxxxxx

Sulu felt as if he was in a school principal's office. He had just come through the double doors of this windowless chamber and was standing before a table full of admirals. Commodore Basil Quinteros of Starbase 10, Admiral Heihachiro Nogura of Starfleet Command, and an admiral that Captain Sulu was not familiar with. The unknown man had a rugged appearance and silvering hair. He looked as if he was used to being in complete command. Sulu wondered how the more seasoned admirals could get him to cooperate in Command meetings.

Commodore Quinteros spoke. "Captain Sulu, have a seat." He gestured at a chair equipped with a verifier pad. Sulu raised his eyebrows at the pad.

"Sirs? Is this a briefing or a board of inquiry?"

Admiral Nogura smiled sympathetically. "A briefing, of course. The verifier is only to lend weight to your words."

Sulu nodded skeptically and took his seat, laying a hand on the verifier pad. Nogura glanced at the unknown admiral. "I believe you have not met Admiral John Harriman."

Admiral Harriman! Better known as 'Blackjack' Harriman for his toughness and shrewdness in Starfleet. Sulu has not met him before, but he has heard of him even in the far outreaches of the Beta Quadrant. Last he heard, Blackjack Harriman was trying to maneuver Starfleet Command into assigning the captaincy of _Enterprise-B_ currently under construction to his own son, Commander John Harriman Jr.

Sulu didn't like this. He found himself wishing to be on his starship far beyond Federation space, far away from Starfleet politics.

Commodore Quinteros leaned forward. "Captain Sulu, do you know where Captain Kirk is?"

Sulu replied, "Last I saw him was a month ago at Khitomer."

Blackjack Harriman nearly growled, "What he's asking, _Captain_, is where he _is_, not _was_."

Oh joy. This was more like an inquiry than a briefing. "I don't know."

"Computer, verify!" Harriman barked.

"_Statement is verified,_" reported the computer.

Harriman narrowed his eyes, obviously not liking the verification. "You do not know. Not like you did not know about where the _Enterprise_ was after Kirk's trial on Qo'noS?"

Sulu stared at Harriman coldly. Admiral Nogura coughed softly. "We understand your loyalty to Captain Kirk." Nogura gave Harriman a hard glance. "Which is why we have called you here."

Sulu was now puzzled. Has something happened to Kirk?

Blackjack Harriman stared daggers at Captain Sulu. "Do you know what he was planning to do after he left Khitomer?"

"I don't know, sir."

"_Incorrect!_" called the computer. Eyebrows went up at this. Harriman's eyes narrowed into slits. Sulu wanted to take his hand away from the verifier pad as if it was a hot plate.

"The computer seems to disagree. Care to elaborate?" Sulu could hear a thrill of triumph in Blackjack Harriman's voice.

Admiral Nogura sighed. "Perhaps the good captain has suspicions that cannot be substantiated."

Captain Sulu nodded. Admiral Nogura had been his sponsor for the captaincy of the _Excelsior_. He was glad to have an ally on this board. "In my experience, Captain Kirk tends to push the patience of Starfleet Command in non-essential situations. I know he would want one last flight in the _Enterprise_ before returning to Earth." He frowned. "Has something happened?"

Harriman glowered. "You could say that."

Commodore Quinteros took a deep breath. "Well, the last report we had from Captain Kirk and his crew was that they were investigating a distress signal from a civilian research ship in the Titan System 63 light-years from here. The research ship was carrying important scientists from Mars and Betazed, including one noble woman. That was two weeks ago. Both the _Enterprise_ and the civilian ship has disappeared."

Sulu winced. He had close friends on the _Enterprise_. Losing scientists and a noble lady from Betazed...that got to put a crimp in the negotiations for Betazed's membership within the Federation.

"Actually...," continued Quinteros, "the _Enterprise_, three hours after the report, vanished within sight of Starbase 10." He remembered the fantastic sight of a Constitution-class starship going at seemingly high warp speed backward and being swallowed into what had appeared to be a tear in the fabric of space. Investigations failed to find that tear.

Sulu's mouth fell open. Three hours from the Titan System to Starbase 10! Impossible! Titan was over 60 light-years from the starbase. It would take _days_ or more to make the trip!

Commodore Quinteros added, "Starbase sensors sensed that the _Enterprise_ was not using any of her engines. She wasn't at warp at all."

The world, or rather the starbase, seemed to spin a little too fast for Sulu. Alien technology? The interference of an advanced species like the Metrons? Natural phenomena?

Admiral Nogura was sympathetic. He could see how the news was affecting Sulu. "Obviously, something has happened at Titan V. Piracy and raids have since been reported in the vicinity of the Titan System. We do not know who the raiders could be." He glanced again at Harriman. 'Blackjack' had his own theories, but this was neither the place nor the time to voice them. "Outposts and colonies have sent out similar reports of alien ships appearing out of nowhere, attacking and disappearing, taking a few things with them, mainly museum pieces and objects in temples and churches. Already, the raiders have destroyed the starships _Tannhauser_ and _Wallenstein_ when they tried to defend the Amish colony on Gilead. This is serious. We have failed to uphold our agreement with the Amish."

"Agreement?" asked Sulu.

"Yes.... When Gilead was settled, the Federation Council granted the Amish complete independence and a Starfleet Prime Directive protectorate status." Nogura steepled his fingers as he looked at Sulu.

Admiral Harriman snorted, showing what he thought of that kind of agreement.

Captain Sulu had thought that peace would come once the Khitomer Accords were signed. Unfortunately, the universe had other ideas. "What do you want me to do?"

Blackjack Harriman took his turn to speak. "Investigate the raids. Starfleet analysts think that the bulk of the raids is moving toward this starbase, following the presumed path of the _Enterprise_. We have put all bases and worlds along the path on high alert. In the meantime, try to find some way to recover the _Enterprise_."

Was it Sulu's imagination that Admiral Harriman didn't seem too eager for Sulu to succeed nor for the return of the _Enterprise_? He can't possibly want his son to be captain of the next _Enterprise_ that badly.

"And Captain...a Klingon ship will join you."

"Klingons?!" Sulu could not believe it. "This is Federation internal affairs, so why involve Klingons in this?"

Admiral Nogura said admonishingly, "We are at peace." Tense silence fell upon the chamber. Sulu deserved a full explanation. "Actually, it's an exchange of military help. An unknown alien force is attacking the other side of the Klingon Empire. At first, rumors pointed to the Romulans, and the Klingons are inclined to believe them. However, Starfleet Intelligence received reports that the Romulans have suffered similar attacks even if the attacks were much smaller. We are hoping for a much closer alliance with the Klingon Empire than stipulated in the Khitomer Accords. We are gathering a small fleet to send into Klingon space in return for their help in combating the raiders."

"And," added Harriman, "Chancellor Azetbur, in her gratitude, has loaned us one of her best ships, the IKS _Ki'tang_."

"May Fortune favor you," blessed Admiral Nogura, smiling.

All Sulu could do was accept silently.

xxxxxxxx

Walking with Commodore Quinteros, Sulu glanced at the long windows marching along one side of the hall. The windows afforded them a view of the cavernous drydock. He couldn't see the _Excelsior_ from here. He knew that the crew would be disappointed at having serious shore leave be delayed once again.

"I can't say that I agree with this, Basil," said Sulu. The Greek man smiled tolerantly. He has gotten to know Captain Sulu during his assignment to the Beta Quadrant, relaying news of the Federation to the _Excelsior_.

"I know." Quinteros stopped walking and turned to Sulu, looking serious. "They didn't tell you everything. Hikaru, the Klingons suspected the Romulans for the attacks for a reason. Oh, they've hated each other ever since their short alliance fell through. Did you really think that Ambassador Nanclus was the only Romulan in the conspiracy?"

"Wasn't he?"

"Nanclus had allies in the Romulan Senate. They wanted to see the Klingons at war with us so that they could step in and pick up the pieces. The only reason the Imperial Senate agreed with the Khitomer Accords was the embarrassment of their chief ambassador being caught red-handed in public. And now, the Senate's jittery about our new alliance. It's not over, Sulu."

The Japanese-American starship captain barked a laugh. "It's never over, Commodore."

"It's a pity," agreed Commodore Quinteros as he gazed through the windows at the outer hull of the drydock. Beyond the hull in that general direction was the Romulan Neutral Zone. "There's a Romulan admiral—Aventeer Vokar—he's one of the most hawkish in the Romulan military. Nanclus was a friend of his, so Vokar has another reason to hate us."

"Another?" Sulu frowned. It is never a good idea to antagonize those who may be powerful within any institution.

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you...." Good humored mischief glittered in the starbase commander's eyes. He came close conspiratorially. "Keep in mind that what I'm about to tell you are only rumorsâ€." Sulu nodded before Quinteros continued. "Admiral Harriman's son, a lieutenant at the time, prevented Vokar from capturing his starship the _Hunley_. Instead, he captured Vokar and the entire Romulan crew, and destroyed his warship instead."

Sulu was impressed. Perhaps this John Harriman Jr. wasn't one of those spoiled sons of admirals. "If this Vokar was captured, how is it he's an admiral in the Romulan fleet?"

Basil Quinteros smiled mischievously. He loved to surprise friends. "Lieutenant Harriman returned Admiral Vokar to the Romulans in a cryopod. The Romulan Star Command obliged by demoting him to sub-lieutenant. Mind you, it's just a rumor."

Sulu whistled. This particular admiral's son may have the potential to be an _Enterprise_ captain after all. Irrationally, he felt this concession to be a betrayal of his friends on the vanished starship.

Quinteros wasn't finished. "Vokar has regained the rank of admiral and has inherited Nanclus' allies in the Senate in addition to those in the military. For now, the Romulans cannot go to war with us. Perhaps not for years. Stillâ€these attacks by the raiders and the unknown alien force have me worried. I've sent my grandson, Orfil, back to my daughter on Toliman in Alpha Centauri. A starbase on the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone is no place for a little boy."

Captain Sulu nodded. He might have done the same for his daughter, Demora, back on Earth in Starfleet Academy in her fifth year. He smiled. Except she wouldn't go quietly.

xxxxxxxxx

The artificial sun shone from the top of the vast dome in the Commercial Sector. Captain Sulu was sitting at a desk in the second floor of a pavilion set in a garden. He could see the garden out of the open screen doors, which was part of an exclusive restaurant in the starbase and was supposed to be an exact copy of the Golden Pavilion in Kyoto, Japan. It was good to have a starbase commander for a friend. He'd chosen this pleasant setting to interview the prospective crew members for his starship. An artificial breeze generated by the starbase kept him cool in the warmth of the false sun. Looking up over the small trees and plants growing around the tiny lake, he could see other buildings rising over the foliage. Over these buildings rose terraces supporting still more buildings and gardens, climbing up the side of the great dome. The dome contained almost as much space as the drydock far above in the mushroom top of Starbase 10. In an hour, it will be evening and the false sun would dim, turning into a false moon.

So far he had already interviewed 31 people, one of whom was a quirky Denobulan woman who wanted a post in Engineering. Sulu could hear the footsteps of a man coming up the stairs. The footsteps were those of a warrior, loud and firm, announcing his presence. Sulu could understand that. This one wasn't alone. He could also hear the soft pitter-patter of a woman's footsteps. They arrived at the stair landing and stepped around the painted folding screen hiding the stairs.

The warrior was an unusual looking human man, radiating great dignity. He was dressed in the uniform of a junior lieutenant, but he used a sash woven of a gold metallic fabric as a belt for his uniform instead of the standard black belt, tied on the right hip. A small stylized ceremonial dagger was thrust into the sash. Definitely not Starfleet regulations. He sported a long blond queue at the back of his head in addition to a trimmed beard that left the upper lip bare. He was chivalrously helping a small Persian-looking woman who was wearing a gown that flowed from her neck down to her feet, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, and left little to the imagination. Rubies nestled in her piled up black hair. Her eyes seemed to see far, yet taking in everything from near.

The captain looked back at the man. Something about him was familiar.

Sulu gestured to the single chair in front of the desk, indicating that the diminutive woman should sit. The man took a guard's stance behind and to the right of the woman. Her body guard? The woman, having sat, spoke.

"I am Rukaiya, a Seeress for the Prefect of Argelius II. I have been referred to Commodore Quinteros by my sister Miriya. The Commodore assigned me to your ship."

Sulu was puzzled. She wasn't on the list of those assigned to transfer to the _Excelsior_. The Argelian woman continued. "The Commodore and Starfleet Command are sorry that your crew cannot enjoy some shore leave, so they thought your ship would benefit from an experiment."

Sulu leaned forward, his curiosity spiking. "Experiment?"

"Yes, Captain. Perhaps you have heard of the suggestion put forward by my worldâ€?"

"Ah! Yes. The suggestion to put psychologists on starships. But that isn't for another decade." Not that Sulu's ungrateful, he wasn't sure about having a shrink digging into his crew's psyches, not to speak of his own.

Rukaiya bowed serenely, smiling softly. "I am to be your ship's counselor."

"You're a seeress, a medium...a...a civilian!" Sulu blurted.

Rukaiya smirked. "I am only to help you and your crew relax. I am skilled in listening, in massages, aromatherapy, meditation and other such gentle forms of counseling. The military tend to beâ€stiff, rigid. Surely your crew can benefit from occasional releases from such...regimes."

"Starfleet is not military—" Sulu started to say uncomfortably. Rukaiya interrupted.

"I know, Captain, I know. It's still as close to a military as the Federation has beside the few local alien worlds' auxiliary fleets. Look, I know it is said that Argelius II is so hedonistic that it makes Risa look like kindergarten. The...dryness—" Here her smirk widened mischievously. "—of your Starfleet would make my sessions a little lighter than Risa, but still relaxing."

Sulu sighed. "All right. You're hired." He really needed to have a talk with Basil Quinteros as soon as possible about this. Rukaiya stood up and bowed before going to the stairs. The man stayed.

Sulu peered up at the imposing man. He looked to be in his late twenties. "And who might you be?"

The penetrating warrior eyes glittered proudly although his lips were trying to tug into a smile. "Leonard James Akaar, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Starfleet, and High Teer of the Ten Tribes of Capella IV."

Hikaru Sulu gasped in delighted surprise. He got off his chair and went around the desk to grasp Akaar's shoulders. "My God, how long has it been since we helped your mother at Capella IV?"

The warrior's face finally softened. "26 years, sir."

Sulu could not believe it. 26 years.... He had never seen Leonard James Akaar as a baby, but he has seen pictures shown by Kirk and McCoy. "And already a junior lieutenant in Starfleet! How is your mother, Lieutenant?"

Akaar grinned. "She's still Regent of the Ten Tribes and still forbids anyone except me and her 'surrogate consort' Dr. McCoy to touch her. Thank goodness Federation medical technology doesn't absolutely require hand-on examinations and treatments."

Sulu laughed as Akaar continued grinning. A thought occurred to the starship captain, causing him to look at Akaar with concern. "Are the Ten Tribes...receptive to your service in Starfleet? A High Teer bound to obey lowly superior officers...it has to be difficult for them to accept."

Akaar's eyes glittered hard and proud. Sulu got the sense that he should be glad that Akaar was friendly with him. But then the High Teer laughed. "That doesn't matter. Regent Eleen is a hard woman. She has made it law that the firstborn of a High Teer should enter Starfleet Academy to learn points of command and planning in addition to Capellan government and ways of dancing with the spears. My baby son's already being reared for the Teership and for Starfleet." Akaar puffed his chest proudly. "She has inspired my people to begin construction of a huge monument in my honor already."

Sulu nodded. He'd heard of that monument. It was supposed to be a ziggurat, a step pyramid, bigger than any such structure on any world in the Federation, dwarfing even the Great Pyramid in Egypt on Earth. The feats of Akaar's father and future truly great High Teers of the Ten Tribes would be carved onto the surface and a small palace would sit atop the artificial mountain. When the Federation Council voiced its doubts, Regent Eleen came before them and _conquered_ them with the force of her will. A hard woman, indeed. A few people were already comparing Eleen to the shrewd T'Pring or even the great T'Pau.

"Let me guess, Leonard. You want to be in security on my ship," Sulu said.

Akaar stood at attention seriously. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Sulu had to smile. "No need to do that on my ship as long as you do the job well enough. I don't have a chief of security. Do you want the job?"

Akaar grinned toothily once more.

Sulu was laughing. An Argelian Seeress for a counselor, a High Teer for _Excelsior_'s chief of security. It was going to be a good mission after all.

xxxxxxxx

"Oh no," Hikaru Sulu muttered under his breath. He could see that damned ambassador, Curzon Dax walking towards him. His good mood quickly vanished while Sulu's impatience for the turbolift's arrival increased exponentially. Why hasn't Ambassador Dax already taken a ship to Trill? Doesn't the Trill homeworld have some emergency, like dealing with Cardassian raids or spies? Isn't he supposed to be monitoring the situation on Bajor? Anything to have Dax on the other side of the Federation.

"Ah! There you are, Captain Sulu! This starbase's really too big to look for one person." Dax laughed.

Sulu muttered through his diplomatic smile, "Pity I'm not too small." That brought an uproarious laughter from Curzon Dax. Once more, Sulu idly wondered where the spots marching down a Trill's temples and neck end up.

The turbolift finally arrived, opening doors to release people, both civilian and Starfleet. Sulu jumped into the turbolift, hoping that either the doors would close quickly or Dax won't get in with him.

Unfortunately, Dax went in.

"You don't really like me, do you?"

Surprised, Sulu looked at the Trill. "Umm, just on principles. I dislike ambassadors in general."

Dax made a sound like it was between a giggle and a laugh. "Oh ho, then you're not going to like this!"

Fear crept up Sulu. "You're coming with us, Ambassador?" A week with the flamboyant Trill man had the captain crawling up walls. Months with him would drive him into reviving the ancient Japanese ritual of seppuku, ritual suicide.

Curzon Dax grinned toothily, looking delighted. Oh no...he _is_ coming with the captain. He _really_ must have a talk with Commodore Quinteros _and_ Admiral Nogura. "My dear Sulu, I'm flattered, really. It's not me." The turbolift arrived at a deck within the drydock sector. "Come with me, Captain." Dax curled a finger at Sulu, beckoning him to follow him.

Nervously, Sulu came to a lounge with Dax. Potted plants were everywhere, people chatted and drank, and a large window opened to the cavernous drydock. This time, Sulu could catch sight of the _Excelsior_. Dax led him over to a woman seated by herself in a corner, her face turned to the window. The dark-haired woman was wearing a dress that was a dark green that could be called black. Over the dress was an odd transparent over-gown with interlinking multi-colored jewels sewn in, flowing from her neck down to her feet. Where has he seen that over-gown before?

Ambassador Curzon Dax turned smilingly to Sulu. "Captain, may I introduce the lovely Ambassador Miranda Jones?" At that, the woman turned her face to Captain Sulu, her brilliant grey-hazel eyes locking onto him.

"Miranda Jones? Not the Dr. Jones who linked with the Medusan Ambassador Kollos?" Sulu stared. She hasn't aged much over the years!

Pain crossed Miranda's face. "Yes. I am she," she said stiffly, miffed at the reminder of Kollos.

Dax tsked at Sulu. "Manners, Captain, manners! Kollos died a few years ago. As a reward for her service and companionship, Kollos had the Medusans engineer a way to keep her looking young and beautiful. Amazing what kind of alien technologies the Federation keeps on missing. Pity. Ambassador Kollos was expecting a long life, but a mishap cut him down. Dr. Jones is now the lovely Ambassador Jones."

Miranda turned her piercing grey eyes to Dax. "I am duty bound to continue Kollos' work. He is me, I am him." It was disconcerting. Everyone Sulu knew had aged or grown. Miranda looked hardly days older than when he saw her last time on the old _Enterprise_. He glanced down at her jeweled net.

Miranda, as a powerful telepath, of course knew what he was thinking. "Yes, Captain. I am still blind. I still use this web sensor dress to guide me. Now, if you have gone past the trivialities, you should know that I am assigned to your starship."

Trivialities? She's still cold to men, then. Sulu stopped himself before he could stammer. Once settled, he said, "I don't understand why everyone seems to think my ship needs an ambassador. I have enough experience of ambassadors thanks to the past week's taxi service from Khitomer."

Miranda smirked. "Do you have a First-Contact specialist? I don't think so. My telepathy will help in establishing contact with the raiders who are troubling your Federation." She turned to Dax. It was disconcerting to see her looking without really looking. She certainly acted as if she wasn't blind. Perhaps there were some improvements to that sensor net gown. "Ambassador Dax, will there be anything else?" she asked primly.

Curzon Dax took her right hand, bowed and planted a light kiss on her knuckles. Miranda's lips twisted in distaste. "No, my dear fellow ambassador. We ambassadors must stick together at the hips, yes?" Miranda firmly, but politely, freed her hand and turned to Sulu, dismissing the Trill. Dax merely shrugged good-humoredly at Sulu and walked away, saying, "Enjoy your new mission! I do hope it's enlightening for us all!"

The captain of the _Excelsior_ sighed. Joy. Another ambassador stuck on his ship.


	9. Color of Trust

_Once more, I do not own what has been used in Star Trek and Babylon 5._

_Constructive criticism is encouraged, so flames are welcome._

* * *

On the third planet of the star called Abba, morning broke out over one of the water-covered communities of the Abbai colony of Tavita. With dawn came the inevitable rituals of morning that were the same as on the homeworld of Ssumssha on the fourth planet, except almost all of them were underwater. Since Tavita was closer to its sun than Abba IV, it was generally hotter and most Abbai prefer to stay underwater to keep themselves cool.

Oumal and Beshant, neighbors for several cycles, met early each day in Beshant's spacious iridescent-walled home to enjoy the pleasures of debate, discussion and delicacies. Beshant's food processors were renowned on Tavita and the quality of his conversation was rumored to be almost just as good.

"You're looking very well," Oumal said as she emitted bubbles to tickle Beshant's face in greeting.

"And you, may I say, look even better today than you did yesterday." Beshant's bubbles rose in courteous response and welcome. "I hope you will join me and share a few humble refreshments." Beshant led Oumal to a low wide table floating between two curved padded silver couches. The table's golden surface was covered, as usual, with many small shell-like dishes of food.

"With pleasure." Oumal settled slowly onto a couch. Once comfortable, she assumed the appropriate posture for polite conversation and selected a fish meatball wrapped in gleaming pink seaweed. For a moment, she idly wondered why, as far as she knew, all worlds have their own form of meatballs.

"Did you hear?" asked Beshant.

Oumal expressed surprise. "Are you inquiring about my capability for aural reception?"

"No, no. I'm using the quaint Earther idiom for information transmission."

Oumal made a gesture of understanding, but annoyance caused her ear-fins to lay flat against her head. "You might have stated that plainly."

"Apologies. Do you have knowledge of events that transpired on the Markab homeworld?"

"Yes. A plague nearly destroyed the Markab civilization before a mysterious ship came out of nowhere with a cure for the plague." Oumal thought it was a good thing. She had learned that the plague was 100 contagious and 100 fatal. She wouldn't like to imagine what would happen if the plague mutated and start affecting other sentient races throughout Known Space.

"The Markab are already calling it the Salvation of the Lights, so I am given to understand." Beshant delicately popped a morsel into his mouth.

Oumal nodded. "Given their reputed religious faith, that is understandable. The Markab would apply religious morality to everything." Here, Oumal paused to eat a small wriggling creature with many multicolored legs. "I learned from the early newsburst that religious disillusion is causing the Markab government to collapse. A provisional government has replaced the traditional theocracy."

Beshant contemplated both her words and the food. "Religious disillusion does seem to be a potential problem. Even for our own people. You are, of course, aware of which I am referring to."

Oumal nodded grimly. The Darkening. Abbai scientists and priests still have not found an explanation for the seconds-long Darkening. Even the Helomai, Abbai telepaths who are closer to nature than normal Abbai, were disturbed by it. As a resultâ€.

"Sha'lai," said Oumal with distaste.

"Indeed," said Beshant. "A cult dedicated to the worship of the Father of Storms, Ruler of the Deep. The Darkening has given it life. I would just as soon not have Sha'lai take root in our waters."

Oumal gave a ponderous shrug. "May I remind you, Beshant, that our culture adheres to the tolerance and respect of all. For now, the Storm Father resides in our pantheon."

"Not to disparage this fascinating subject, does no one know the identity of the mysterious saviors of the Markab?" Beshant popped a curling sea creature, tied with black seaweed to prevent it from swimming away, into his mouth. Try as he might, he couldn't dig for information on the mystery ship that came to Markab's salvation.

"Thus far," Oumal said, "no one has any idea of the identity. The mystery ship has left Markab, most likely due to the troubles there. The matriarchs in the Marti are advising the Natar, Empress-Mother Yrisha, and Ambassador Kalika Qwal'mizra to initiate contact with the mystery ship."

Beshant said, "So the mystery remains a mystery."

"For now."

Bubbles of amusement filled the chamber and both Abbai fell silent in order to concentrate more fully upon the delicious fare laid out on the golden table floating between them.

_**Hakudo Maru**_

The red ship flashed out of a blooming blue-white flower in space, dropping out of warp. The glow of the blue outline of its ring faded and thrusters blew, braking the ship in the void between the stars. Black scorch marks marred the red beauty of the ship here and there, and glittering plasma was venting from the rear. Beings in EVA suits began to appear to patch some of the damages.

"We're stuck."

T'Sara, having recovered in the infirmary, wearily looked at the ship's engineer. Even after meditations, she still felt weary. It was unfortunate that the Oran'taku Doctor Nashiin was murdered. "Please clarify. We cannot afford the luxury to utter inanities."

The engineer appeared insulted, but he nodded in acceptance.

"The impulse engines are severely damaged, the warp core is operating less than optimally due to the cold-start. Some of the shield generators are burnt out. It will require the facilities of a starbase to make repairs. Obviously there isn't any starbase here. Soâ€we're stuck."

_Not to mention access to a Vulcan master healer. _Physically, T'Sara was not hurt, but her mind was another matter. That PsiCop interrogator.... It gave her a small un-Vulcan satisfaction to see his face when the transporter rescued her from his ministrations.

A beep sounded over the intercom. T'Sara pressed a button in the conference table.

"_Director, we're receiving an encrypted tachyon message. It wasn't hard for the computers to decrypt it, but you need to see this."_

T'Sara arched an eyebrow. No one but EarthForce, PsiCorps and Interplanetary Expeditions knew of them. Logically, the message had to come from either of these agencies. "Relay the message to the conference room."

A monitor came to life on a wall, attracting the attention of all in the conference room. Words appeared letter by letter on the monitor. _I'm sorry. Go to Babylon 5. You can find sanctuary there. L.T._

Laurel Takashima. Under the message were coordinates that pointed to the Epsilon Eridani System. T'Sara turned back to the others in the room. They knew what she was asking.

John Howard was the first to speak up. "How can we trust those bastards? We almost died! No, we _must_ not go where the bitch pied piper is pointing."

Liria looked up from her lap, showing no emotion on her face. While that may be commendable for Vulcans, T'Sara knew it wasn't a sign of health for emotional beings. Liria had not allowed herself to mourn. "Ms. Takashima must know we cannot fall for the same trick. I am inclined to believe her this time. Of course, we can see if it's a trap from far away before entering the system. If it is, we can always just leave."

"Logical," said T'Sara as a compliment.

"You can't be thinking of doing this!" Howard shouted. "Epsilon Eridani waaay across the width of the Earth Alliance!" Other people were nodding.

T'Sara gestured toward the engineer, saying, "Can we be detected at warp?"

The engineer shook his head. "The fastest way for them to scan for anything is by tachyon. We would have never received this message if we haven't dropped out of warp here."

"We then can remain at warp the entire journey to Epsilon Eridani and this Babylon 5. Should the sanctuary be less than forthcoming, we shall depart for other parts." T'Sara did not know where to go if it came to that. The Minbari that they mentioned? It was unfortunate that they could not receive tachyon broadcasts yet. As far as she could figure, tachyon broadcasts and communications were sent over narrow beams, most of which went through Hyperspace for instantaneous connections. For that, they need a jumpengine connected to a tachyon communication array.

T'Sara turned her full attention to each person in the conference room, taking full charge of her directorship. "Once preliminary repairs are completed, we shall set course for Babylon 5."

The EVA suited beings, once finished with their tasks, disappeared into the red ship. Thrusters fired again, some longer than others, reorienting the ship to the direction of Epsilon Eridani. Once the thruster maneuvers were finished, the ring nacelle glowed once more. The _Hakudo Maru_ warped away in search of a promised port of call, a beacon of hope.

**Babylon 5**

Lyta Alexander was frustrated and suspicious.

_Why aren't they letting me scan her?_ Lyta thought. _Couldn't they see that it's too important to let even one mind slip past me?_

"What are you hiding?" Lyta snarled.

Commander Susan Ivanova was feeling put on the spot. _How dare she suspect _meThe tiny voice of doubt pushed itself into her mind. _Are you sure? Are you absolutely positively sure? She did say that you wouldn't know at all._ Ivanova didn't want to think about that possibility, squashing the voice once again.

Captain John Sheridan decided that it was time to break the tension. This was exactly what PsiCorps wanted. All this paranoia and suspicion dividing them all.

Sheridan was stepping forward when his commlink chirped for his attention. Annoyed at the interruption, he said into the commlink, "Sheridan. What is it?" Annoyance and exhaustion had sharpened his voice. It was Lieutenant David Corwin in C&C.

"_Uhhh, sorry, sir. A strange ship just came in out of nowhere. It's asking for you. A shuttle is being sent to the docking bay. And, Captainâ€you have to see this._"

Strange ship? That has to mean they couldn't find anything like it on record. Sheridan looked at the monitor on the wall behind his desk. It was showing a relayed vid of a ship. It was strange indeed. And fragile-looking too.

What a time for a monkeywrench to be thrown in this! "All right, thanks. I'm coming. Sheridan out." Sheridan looked around at the people gathered in his office. His eyes narrowed when he looked at the rogue telepath Lyta Alexander. So far, they had found nothing. No Control. Maybe Lyta was fooled by PsiCorps to test her loyalty? It wouldn't be the first time they did that. He hoped it wasn't wishful thinking.

"We have to hold off on this, Ms. Alexander." Ignoring her protests, Sheridan turned to the security chief. "Mr. Garibaldi, put guards on the office. I'm holding you personally responsible for her safety here."

Ivanova exhaled a sigh of relief. The damned telepath wouldn't find out about her latent ability, then. The sigh drew a sharp look of suspicion from Lyta.

xxxxxxx

Sheridan walked with Ivanova down a hall. "You all right, Susan?"

Ivanova sighed in relief once more. "Yes. Thanks for getting me off the hook." To be found out in such an unsavory manner....

Sheridan waved it off. "No problem. The universe may be a cruel place, but it throws the occasional bone to keep us liking the universe." A cruel place is rightâ€the strange dimming of everything, those Markab. Half the Markab and two Pak'ma'Ra on Babylon 5 died before the cure was sent from the Markab homeworld. What a cruel bone. They walked in silence, uncomfortably thinking about the problem of Control. Was he right in excusing Ivanova? No...he had to trust her. Unbidden, the memory came of a saying he heard from Narns describing the Centauri.

_Trust is the color of Death_.

He shook his head to get rid of that thought. He brightened when he saw Talia Winters walking towards him. Ivanova brightened as well.

Talia paused when she saw them, looking a bit surprised, and continued walking to them. "I have been looking for you, Captain. I was expecting to find you in your office." She turned to smile at Ivanova. "And where are you going?"

Ivanova glanced at Sheridan for permission. He gave a subtle nod. A licensed telepath would help in this first-contact situation. Plus, he would see how she handles the new arrivals. If she does well, it would help convince him to bring Talia into their little anti-Clarke movement sooner.

"Oh we're just going to meet some aliens," Ivanova quipped. "Put the fear of God in them for interrupting this fine day."

Talia smirked, recognizing Ivanova's mood. "This, I want to see!"

Another mind watched all of this.

xxxxxxx

The white boxy shuttle landed on the deck of the docking bay. The shuttle was a tiny affair, only big enough for a few people. The blue glow in what must be their engines faded. Amazingly, the cursive script on it was recognizable, spelling "Galileo," a very human name. Already, it was promising to be a most interesting first-contact situation. Sheridan pulled his uniform down tighter over his chest, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead.

The hatch slid open and two beings stepped out. Sheridan, Ivanova, Talia, and Garibaldi stared in surprise. The beings were human. Where could humans get this kind of craft? Sheridan irrationally thought of Bureau 13.

Wait. Upon looking a second time, one of them was an alien. Sheridan was sure that this alien's species was never encountered before. Pointy ears and converging eyebrows giving him a vampiric look. Sheridan was almost expecting him to open his mouth and display fangs in it.

Both of them were wearing some kind of uniform which looked military. Burgundy red double-breasted tunic held by a black belt at the waist, black pants with red piping, and black boots. They also had a white turtleneck shirt underneath their tunics. Each person wore an insignia over the left breast and an identical one is worn as a belt buckle, obviously a symbol for their entire military force, and rank insignias on a white epaulet over their right shoulder. The rank insignias were repeated on the left cuff of their tunics.

Sheridan didn't recognize their fleet symbol which appeared to be a star cut into an odd four-sided triangle. How could they survive wearing red? Those red tunics must be easy to spot in a combat situation. Those pointy sideburnsâ€they must be like the old standard military haircut that went out of fashion with the Minbari War. Where could these people come from? He didn't think that the Vree actually abducted many humans and planted them somewhere else on an isolated planet. Then again...their ship outside Babylon 5 shows some Vree influence.

Sheridan could see Talia staring intently at the pointy-eared alien. He could understand that, although there must be some other reason for her to stare so rudely.

The man in front stepped forward. "I am James T. Kirk, Captain of the Federation starship _Enterprise_...."

After introducing the other man as Captain Spock, Kirk shook hands with Sheridan who then introduced his own people. Two captains on a starship? Sheridan could not imagine how such a military command structure could function. Something like in the ancient Roman Republic where two consuls shared presidential powers? As he recalled, that system failed.

The other mind was still watching all of this happening. It decided to make its move on the person closer to it than Ivanova.

The password poured into Talia's mind.

Everyone were startled when Talia crumpled, looking anguished. She fell into Garibaldi's arms, causing him to yell, "What the hell?!" Grabbing his PPG from his holster, she pushed Garibaldi hard, causing him to fall clumsily to the deck. Talia swung the PPG to the direction of the other mind, firing into the darkness. Everyone else dropped to the deck, not wanting a stray plasma pulse to hit them.

Spock stepped to behind Talia while she was still shooting into the dark, screaming, "You blew my cover! You're dead! Do you hear me? You're dead! The Corps is mother, the Corps is father! You're dead, Lyta Alexander! We'll find you! The Corps will find you!" The Vulcan reached up to where Talia's neck met her shoulder and pinched that area. Talia stiffened, throwing her head backward and widened her eyes. Eyes rolling back into her head, she fainted.

Sheridan and everyone else stared down at Talia's elegant body crumpled on the deck, shocked.

Lyta Alexander came out of hiding among the structures of the docking bay. "I don't believe it. It's _her_."

The station commander couldn't believe it eitherâ€and this Spock somehow knocked her cold with a simple touch!

xxxxxx

"...and this sleeper program has replaced her personality entirely." Sheridan peered at the newcomers for their reaction. The reaction ranged from open disgust to interested curiosity. They were a wild card here. Sheridan glanced at Lyta. He hated being forced to explain himself to strangers. He only explained about the sleeper program, nothing about his own activities. It wasn't their business.

Garibaldi wasn't sure if these newcomers were who they said they were. They came at a time too opportune to be a coincidence. He still couldn't think clearly enough. He felt ashamed that he didn't include not allowing people to get out of captain's office in the orders he gave to the guards. Talia.... _My God, we were so close to bringing her into our little conspiracy. Too close. One more week and we would be dead men walking._ However, with what Talia knew already, they may be dead anyway. Jeez...he _trusted_ her and that was saying something.

Now...these newcomers. They're a wild card and a problem. Ok, they solved a problem by knocking Talia cold before she shot anyone, but still a problem.

_Terror. Surprise. Reflection. For the Future._ Garibaldi suddenly remembered Talia telling him about her work with Kosh and the weird Vicar Abbut and a data crystal. Maybe a key to restoring the elegant blonde telepath's original personality? What about these strangers? Garibaldi felt torn between his concern for Talia and his duty to watch for any game from the strangers. He made a decision.

"Captain," Garibaldi said. "I have an ideaâ€but I have to check it and get back with you. Talia and...." He gestured at the newcomers, not caring if he appeared rude. After all, they agreed to leave their weapons on their shuttle so they weren't in any danger from them. Ivanova, in spite of her shock, could handle the two. "Two birds with one stone."

Sheridan nodded, and Garibaldi ran out of the office.

Kirk was amazed at everything. At the Earth Alliance, this space station. Would this be what his Earth be like if there was no warp drive, no gravity control technology, no Vulcans, no political union with alien worlds, and a Third World War not devastating enough to force humans to rebuild their entire world from scratch?

He glanced at Spock. He could see that he was thinking along similar lines.

But Kirk was troubled. This...sleeper program and the concept of PsiCorps troubled him. It meant corruption was still rife on Earth. The destruction of most of the governments on Earth and the Vulcan First Contact erased most of the corruption. As sick as it may sound, the near total destruction in the Third World War may have been needed to clean up Earth politics. He knew that Vulcans would think twice about contacting Earth if they knew about the PsiCorps. At least the Vulcans he knew. The old Vulcans probably wouldn't care. He'd read what little he could about their dealings with the corrupt Coridan and Mazarite governments before their civil war.

He looked up as a woman stepped into Captain Sheridan's office. The woman was beautiful, looked human except for the headbone and the hairless brow almost like that of a Boslic.

"John, I—" The woman stopped when she saw that Sheridan wasn't alone.

Sheridan widened his eyes, cautioning Delenn.

"May I introduce Delenn, Ambassador for the Minbari Federation." Delenn formally bowed with her hands outlining a triangle between them.

Spock recognized an affinity with her species. The recognition was illogical, but this Minbari woman's aura reminded him of the Kolinahr Priestess on Vulcan. A Kolinahr Priestess with emotions, however un-Vulcan and illogical that isâ€. He raised his right hand and parted his ring and middle fingers into a V. "Peace and long life."

Delenn stared at the pointy-eared alien, startled. "Please pardon me, but where do you come from?"

"Vulcan."

Delenn gaped. "This is not possible..." She turned to Sheridan to explain herself, but carefully. The newcomers were not privy to all of their knowledge. "Johnâ€in the...last war, there was a people called...." Delenn thought hard here and carefully pronounced the name. "Vuhl-kahn-su."

Spock raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't expected that Vulcan would exist in this quantum reality. "That was indeed a native name for my people. May I ask, Ambassador, what happened to the Vulcans?"

Delenn stared once more. She couldn't believe that this man was a Vulcan and yet did not know what happened to his own world.

"Ah...records are fragmented...we do not really know. Your...people were an ally in a war. That is all we know. We do not know why we have not seen any sign of them." Delenn looked pointedly at Spock. "Until now." Where were these people really from? Did they stay on their homeworld, waiting for the right moment to come out of hiding? And why reveal themselves, especially now? Delenn looked at Kirk, obviously a human. Why do these...Vulcans have humans with them? It was suspicious.

Spock merely arched an eyebrow. "While I am a Vulcan, I am not of this universe's Vulcan species."

Confusion clouded the faces of Delenn, Sheridan and Ivanova.

_Here we go again_, thought Kirk as Spock launched into an explanation.

Spock understood the Babylon 5 officers' concern about Talia. While Sheridan did not say why they were concerned about this sleeper program, troubling as it is in itself, logically, it meant they had something to hide from PsiCorps and their Earth government. He wondered idly about how the sleeper program could be adapted into something beneficial for the storage and maintenance of katras. It was something for the Vulcan Science Directorate to figure out.

Delenn interrupted Spock's explanation. "When was this...transit into our universe?"

"52 days and twelve hours ago."

Delenn glanced at Sheridan who was also wide-eyed. That was the time the universe dimmed. A troubling connection. But...a trans-dimensional transit shouldn't be enough to do that. She nodded for Spock to continue. It was...difficult to believe the story, but in a way it made sense. If people could tear holes into hyperspace, then with sufficiently advanced science, gateways could be created to access other universes. Delenn could sense truth in Spock's words.

When Spock was finished explaining his and Kirk's origins, he decided to do something to earn their trust. He focused his attention on Captain Sheridan who was still mulling over the new information just given. "Captain, may I suggest something for your problem?"

xxxxxx

Talia was looking smug in her cell. Control has completely taken over. All the little whispers in the old mind, pushing the original Talia to get close to key persons, even to the point of having anti-Corps sympathies.

The cell door's lock clicked, attracting her attention. The door slid open, admitting that alien with the pointy fingers. He seemed to be concentrating, his hands interlocked in front of his face with the forefingers pressing against each other, creating a tiny triangle over the interlocked fists. He looked even more sinister that way than when she saw him in the docking bay. The alien hands finally disconnected and one of them reached out to touch her face.

Talia shook her head in resistance, which was all she could do being shackled to her chair. She'd known that this alien had telepathic abilities when she met him. Spock caught her head and held it as he touched her katra points. Fascinated, Talia watched Spock's eyes gaze deep into hers as he began the chant for the Vulcan mind meld. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds are one. My thoughts are your thoughts, your thoughts are my thoughts. Our thoughts are one...." The quiet hypnotic voice faded as she felt her mind actually connecting with this alien's mind, all resistance melting away from his mental caresses. She could feel the smooth surface of the alien's mind and the surface was a mere veil hiding and controlling emotions roiling like hyperspace itself. Order on chaos. An image came into her mind of a valley between jagged dry mountains, a valley made artificially flat with straight wide lines, a little lighter in color than the Mars-like redness of the ground, arranged on it like the Nazca Lines in Peru on Earth. A hole built like a well flanked by two obelisks in the valley floor spouted flames up to the hot red and dusty sky. Oddly, she felt as if this world was her homeworld. Her Control personality was slowly attracted to the dancing beauty of the fire like a moth....

xxxxxxxx

Garibaldi stared hard at the small monitor showing Talia's cell. He couldn't believe Sheridan would allow an alien access to the telepath. He'd argued, raged at Sheridan before submitting, then made veiled threats to Spock about the welfare of the woman. Spock must have been something to be able to persuade the captain. He didn't like telepaths, except for Talia Winters. He hoped this trust won't mean the touch of a dagger in the back. He glanced worriedly back at Sheridan who was studying the monitor with interest.

Sounds of Talia gasping and panting came over the speakers. Garibaldi had to reassure himself that if it was a form of torture, it was Control, not _Talia_ receiving it. Still.... When Talia gave a short shout, Garibaldi was itching to go into the cell, rip Spock away from Talia and beating the vampire-looking alien up. Sheridan's sharp look kept him rooted to the spot.

This...what did Spock call it? A mind meld...it seemed to be the ultimate in telepathic violation of mental privacy. Sheridan shivered. He'd never liked PsiCorps but he could see why it was needed. Humans thrived on privacy and the ability to hide their own truths. Without privacy, humans would go mad and make each other mad. For humans, trust meant willingness to help each other with their truths. Telepathy, as he had learned, undermined that ability. He had his doubts about that. Then again, he doubted everything, including the impossible. It helped him do the impossible: destroy the Minbari flagship _Black Star_ in the Earth-Minbari War. He hoped he would do as well in the coming war.

xxxxxxxx

Sheridan walked with Delenn in the Zen Garden. "What should we do about Ms. Winters?"

Delenn looked up into his eyes. "This Spock claims that the sleeper personality no longer controls Talia, but...it still resides in her mind. Surely she would no longer endanger any of you."

"I'm not so sure about that. Even if she won't betray us anymore, PsiCorps still could force Ms. Winters." Talia was a conundrum, a difficult problem. If she stayed, PsiCorps would come get her. If she leaves, PsiCorps would still come, suspicious as to why her Control program failed. Talia wouldn't know how to be Control to fool PsiCorps or Bureau 13 and PsiCorps would then come. At least the newcomers were not as difficult a problem, so far.

Delenn glanced down at the Zen rock garden, at the way the sand made waves around the stones, at the way the tiny banzai trees made shadows over the rocks and the wavy sand. "I have an idea, John."

xxxxxxxx

Ivanova looked at Talia sadly. "I don't blame you."

Talia smiled sadly. Human and alien beings milled around at the gate to the docking bay. She touched Ivanova's hand with a gloved hand. "I know. I still feel responsible. Thank you for the temporary stay at your quarters."

Ivanova hardened her face to keep her emotions from overcoming her. "At least the Talia I knew is still alive. What are you going to do now?"

Talia moved her blonde hair back from her face to her ear. "The program's still inside my head. My mind's still full of holes.... Ambassador Delenn bought my contract from PsiCorps. The amount of money she offered had the Corps drooling." She pulled a data crystal from her purse for Ivanova to see. It glittered much more brightly than Talia's Corps badge in the light. "Delenn and Michael got this from Ambassador Kosh. We're hoping that the technicians and telepathic healers on Minbar can figure out how to use this to repair my personality."

Ivanova wasn't sure if that was possible. The Earth Alliance had the technology to erase personalities and construct entire new ones. It was difficult to turn back the clock on that technique. But then the Minbari were a thousand years ahead of Earth.

She didn't know if she could recover from the shock of having her trust so abused even though it wasn't really Talia's fault. Her eyes wandered down to the Corps badge on the telepath's black half of her collar. Talia, she could forgive. PsiCorps and Bureau 13, she won't forgive. Ever.

"_Transport 46 boarding. Transport 46 boarding."_ The announcer continued to repeat in other languages and some beings began to line up at the gate with their carry-ons and tickets.

Talia straightened herself and smoothed down her black and golden-brown dress. "That's my ride to Minbar. Maybe I'll see you around."

Ivanova and Talia hugged once. The Russian woman doubted she would see her only telepathic friend again.

xxxxxxxx

Lyta Alexander, wearing a breather mask, entered Ambassador Kosh's quarters. Here was the awesome being that made her life's purpose crystal clear. She spoke hurriedly.

Kosh listened distractedly. Most of his mind was on the visitors that Sheridan recently received. Those visitors were never part of the Circle. They belonged in another part of the Pattern and were never meant to disrupt the song of the Age Lace. Because of their incursion into the Circle, the Pattern could be in danger of unraveling itself. When the universe went dark for a few seconds, Kosh was shaken to the core of his very being. For a brief moment, much briefer than a second, he and every other Vorlon sensed a presence. To have this happen now was mostâ€inconvenient. He had to do something to restore the Circle. His mind returned to the human telepath Lyta. The Vorlon Empire could use another weapon in the coming war.

At the end of Lyta's passionate speech, Kosh opened his encounter suit. The light of his being shone upon Lyta and a sound like giant wings unfurling came to the awestruck human telepath.

Kosh hoped there won't be any more trans-dimensional incursions. The Vorlon Empire had more than enough of that a million years ago.

xxxxxxxx

Ivanova stared out the window of C&C, using the stars as a focus for her thoughts. Suddenly a new star bloomed. A supernova? No, that blooming light looked too close to be a nova. Actually, it appeared to be within the Epsilon Eridani System. The blue-white light quickly faded as a red ship looking like a needle through a ring stretched into existence.

A very strange form of jumppoint. She'd never seen a jumppoint form and collapse that way or that quickly before. And that ship looked far too small to have a jumpengine. She glanced down into the 'pit' at David Corwin. He shook his head. Ivanova knew that meant this particular ship had no match on file.

"Aw hell. Not another monkeywrench."

**Gliese 86, Vree Outpost**

The outpost, once serving as the Vree base of operations in their days of interstellar exploration until the Centauri second expansion, consisted of a small military colony hidden by the thick cloudy atmosphere of a Venusian planet. A space station was built in the wake of the Centauri Republic's second decline. In return for protection of the outpost against the Centauri, the Ventuki Conglomerate has allowed Narn cruisers to use the Vree outpost as a supply and repair depot. Now, four Narn G'Quan-class cruisers were under repair or being resupplied at the space station. Trade ships and military saucer-shaped patrollers lazily fluttered around the space station. Their lazy vigilance was interrupted when many jumppoints tore the dark heavens and Centauri warships poured out.

The Centauri warships, instead of the symbol of the Republic, bore the sigil of House Dromo on their wings. The few Vorchans were outnumbered by the smaller Vorchak-class warships. On the Vorchaks, leftovers from the second Centauri expansion, the horizontal wings were thin, not thick like the Vorchans, and the vertical wings were much shorter, shorter than the horizontal wings. The four wings were more forward-pointing than the modern Vorchans. Even though the ships had fewer weapons than Vorchans, they were enough for the Gliese 86 Star System.

One Narn cruiser was able to turn to the sudden Centauri threat, but it tore apart in the first Centauri weapon volley. The other three Narn cruisers were similarly blasted. Civilian ships fled the scene, some trying to leave the system in normal space and others were crowding the local jumpgate. The Vree recalled their patrollers to the space station, but did not open fire. The Vree thought that the Centauri were there only for the Narn. So it was with great surprise that they found Centauri weapons smashing into the space station purposefully. The same weapons were ripping tiny Vree patrol saucers open to the deadly vacuum of space. Missiles also rained upon the old base on the planet. The Centauri did not give any of them time to respond. Within an hour, the Gliese 86 star was host only to planets, gases, burnt and twisted debris, and freeze-dried mangled bodies. The local jumpgate was now Centauri property.

The Centauri no longer need to make a detour around foreign territory to reach the Narn homeward.

**Abba III**

It was evening on Tavita and the water over a certain community was awash in the reddish light of dusk. Before the late newsburst, Oumal and Beshant shared a meal and discussion as was their nightly habit.

"Did you hear that the Centauri has expanded their war to include the Vree?" asked Beshant.

Oumal stared at her platonic friend. That was the second League race that the Centauri attacked. The first were the Corillians who brought it on themselves by attacking the Centauri at Quadrant 17. But the Vree were just minding their own business this time. A shift in Centauri expansion plans? "No. Not that I'm surprised. They are _so_ ill-tempered, these Centauri," said the Abbai woman. "In fact, I have often found their behavior just this side of uncivilized. It has to be most disharmonious to be so excessive with vices, drinking and cavorting as much as they do. Disharmony leads to violence."

"Agreed." Beshant and Oumal both emitted tiny bubbles to indicate a harmony of opinion. Both helped themselves to another tasty tidbit.

"Please continue," urged Oumal. Beshant always had the latest news and gossip from across Known Space. She did not know how he managed that without waiting for the newsbursts.

Beshant swallowed leisurely, savoring the taste before he allowed himself to dwell on the latest news from Abba IV, the Abbai homeworld. "An adherent of the Father of Storms made an attempt to destroy a temple dedicated to the religion of Kolai in Nolei."

"No!" Oumal's fins quivered in disbelief. Nolei was the capital city on beautiful Ssumssha. Kolai was one of the less traditional religions that used logic and knowledge instead of nature as pathways to a higher state of being. To commit violence against Kolai or any of the religions such as the traditional wind-and-water religion of Oulai was anathema.

"And," Beshant continued, "when a Peacekeeper tried to intervene, he turned on her as well."

Oumal was wordless. They could not recall a similar occurrence since the time of Natar Vessa Qwil'telai over 3,800 years ago. All Abbai were proud and ashamed of that time—pride in Empress-Mother Vessa's Matriarchate and wisdom; shame that any Abbai were able to harm another Abbai. To have this happen again....

"Then," Beshant added, "before anyone else could move, the crazed Sha'lai follower killed himself. Someone heard him muttering about going home in the Abyss."

"Shocking.... I hope Natar Yrisha is going to do something about this."

"Rumor has it that Her Serenity and the Marti are considering policies about Sha'lai. They believe it is more serious than following our mutual defense treaty obligations to the Vree. Much more important than figuring out the identity of the Markab's saviors, of course."

Oumal shook her head. "The Darkening. Sha'lai. Drafa Plague. The Centauri wars. What is the universe coming to? I always did think those Sha'lai people were inherently unstable. All that time spent being in the dark and pushing their tolerance of the deep water pressure. It's positively unhealthy."

And both Abbai shuddered at the very thought as they helped themselves to more delicacies. The water in the chamber moved to their complacency with perhaps just a dash of uneasy distaste.


	10. Twilight's Last Gleaming

X-Over: Clues to the identity of the raiders in Federation space are in the first chapter.

Bolo: Kirk may not like it, but he accepted the fact that the Preservers had been messing around with Earth and humans.

Aaron and Gyre: RAFO (Read And Find Out)

eddys: I apologize for the speed of my story. I'm not yet as skilled as AlbertG.

Enjoy this chapter!

* * *

_**The Game of Houses:** Name given the scheming, plots, and manipulations for advantage by noble Houses. Great value is given to subtlety, to aiming at one thing while seeming to aim at another, and to achieving ends with the least visible effort. Also known as the Great Game..._

—_Glossary in _The Shadow Rising_ by Robert Jordan,_

_Book 4 of the _Wheel of Time_ series._

**Royal Palace, Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

Ambassador Londo Mollari entered the Grand Hall of the Royal Court through the entrance grandly known as the Sublime Porte. He'd been told by Virini, the Minister of Protocol, that he was to meet the new Emperor before meeting Lord Refa. A last minute change of plans.

He didn't know what caused the change in plans. He didn't like it. Not one bit. It was the Great Game, the Game of Houses, as surely as he was breathing the air of Imperial City, capital of Centauri Prime.

Lords and ladies milled around in the Royal Court. The great throne itself was empty in its alcove although Londo could catch a few lords casting covetous eyes on it. Two of the Emperor's Own flanked the throne, female communication-telepaths totally covered in a gauzy white veil. Even though the Emperor wasn't present, his eyes were present.

Ornamental semi-precious purple stone columns led his eyes up to the wide arches which supported the great central dome from which hung huge chandeliers made with gemstones instead of crystal. Stained-glass windows at the base of the dome made the dome look as if it was hanging from a string tied to a finger of the Great Maker. Colored marble blocks made up the walls, cut so carefully that the grains of the marble flowed into each other like incense smoke. Great crests of hair on the lords competed for space with the billowing dresses of the bald ladies of the Court, almost completely covering the floor which was made with volcanic black obsidian. Most were cordial enough with each other, but Londo knew that at any moment's notice, poison might slip into a lord's glass of brivari or a lady might invite someone into bed only to insert a dagger instead of being inserted herself. Soft gentle music floated down from the orchestra in the gallery above the Sublime Porte.

He knew that his ex-wives Mariel and Daggair would thrive in this environment. He finally caught sight of Lord Antono Refa playing words with several lords beside his wife, the Lady Celes Refa. Londo'd never forgiven him for the death of his dear friend Urza Jaddo in spite of the power that House Mollari inherited from House Jaddo in a morago.

Londo boldly strode through the noble crowd towards the door behind the throne, occasionally greeting a lord here and smiling charmingly at a lady there. He was also told by Minister Virini that the Emperor would be waiting behind that door. He hoped that Refa wouldn't catch sight of Ambassador Mollari.

Too bad the Great Maker didn't bless him in this instance. Lady Celes saw him and intercepted him and called on her husband to attend to the visiting ambassador.

"Londo!" Refa called intimately, as if they were dear friends. Refa held Londo's wrists with both of his hands as other lords and ladies studiously cast their eyes elsewhere, but surely watching as if their eyes were rudely staring straight at the two of them.

Londo merely looked at his inimical ally. An equal to an equal.

Refa grinned. He also knew that his House was House Mollari's equal. So far. "So, Londo, finally meeting the new Emperor, yes?"

Londo waved dismissively. "I have met Cartagia three times before."

Mischievous delight shone in Refa's eyes. "And what was your impression of the young man on our throne, hmmm?"

Londo knew that Refa was trying to get him to talk himself to the headsman's block. True, any word that is considered treasonous in the Royal Court meant the headsman's ax. He didn't care. The Emperor was young, still new on his throne, and under the thumb of House Refa. And Refa knew that Londo had a hold on the head of House Refa.

"Oh, I've met him twice when he was an infant. He drooled most of the time. I wonder if he still has the habit. And once when he was 15, trying to peek up the dresses of some young women. I promise you, Refa, I will be just as impressed now as I was then."

Lady Celes tittered behind her lace fan, glancing at her husband. Refa put on a false ponderous look, nodding gravely. Celes took that as a signal. She closed her fan and turned to Londo.

"Oh Ambassador, you have some experience of alien cultures, I'm sure?"

Londo quirked an eyebrow at Lady Celes. What was she on about? "Yes, I suppose."

Celes opened a small purse hanging at the bottom of her bodice and pulled out a crystalline figurine. Londo recognized it as Minbari. Celes held up the figurine close to Londo. "A servant of mine found this on a border world. It's Minbari, is it not?" She tittered again. "The silly headbone gave that away, of course. I'm thinking of making a gift of this for a friend of mine. But Lady Drusella always wants to know all the stories of any gift she gets." Celes batted her eyelashes at the ambassador. "With your close contact with the Minbari, you know the story of this statue, surely?"

Londo raised his eyebrows idly. He knew that Celes and Refa were trying to make him late for his appointment with the Emperor and ruin his first impression for the royal eyes. He tried to excuse himself. "Oh, my dear Lady Celes, I am clumsy about such things. I care only about things Centauri."

"Please, Ambassador. Just look. Anything would please me." Celes gazed closely into Londo's eyes. "Anything at all."

Londo sighed and took the crystal statue from Celes. He brought it close to his eyes. It was indeed beautiful. Too bad he did not care about such foreign things, especially in the hands of enemies. The statue slipped from his fingers to shatter most satisfyingly on the obsidian floor of the Royal Court. The light refracted by the crystalline shards made the black obsidian floor glitter with golden spark-like specks.

"See? I am so clumsy about such things." Londo bowed apologetically and left Lady Celes fuming. Refa plucked a glass of brivari from a passing servant and ponderously peered at Londo's retreating back.

Upon entering the Imperial office-cum-wardrobe behind the throne, Londo could see the new Emperor, Narleeth Cartagia Jarn, himself.

Cartagia was a handsome young man, but a man Londo might see in any of the nightclubs attended by young aristocrats on any of the core Centauri worlds. His hair was made into a crest much shorter than Londo's. The ambassador was horrified. It meant Londo, a mere lord and ambassador, held a much higher rank than the Emperor himself! Scandalous! It was an insult to the standing of House Kasto, the esteemed family of Cartagia and the late Turhan. The only sign of Cartagia's imperial status was his white clothes with gold embroideries and the golden medallion which was the Great Royal Seal of the Great Centauri Republic. Somehow, this young man even made those seem irreverent. The Emperor's shirt was open, allowing the Seal to lie among his chest hair under the red scarf tied about his neck.

Londo had to keep himself from gasping in horror at the spectacle.

"Ah! Londo, is it? Much has been said about you. Poor dear Uncle Turhan and Lord Refa, yes." Cartagia's eyes were over-merry and his lips curled in a half-demented smirk as he laughed. He held out his arms to the ambassador. "The architect of Our future victory!"

Londo stepped forward and bowed low to get close enough to smell the Emperor who was flanked by the other two veiled telepathic women of the Emperor's Own. The things he'd stoop to do for his beloved Republic! He couldn't smell any brivari on the young man.

He wasn't drunk! He was giddy with the false power of the throne.

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"Your impression of our illustrious sovereign, it is still the same?" Refa was smirking.

"No.... It's worse." Londo emptied another glass of brivari. "If we kill each other, the Republic wouldn't survive this emperor."

Refa chuckled. "Oh Cartagia's a fool. Easily manageable." _And easy to make way for a new emperor. Emperor Refa,_ Antono Refa thought. He liked the sound of that.

Londo grabbed another bottle of brivari and poured into his glass. The curtains were drawn over the windows of Refa's suite. One Royal Guard stood at the entrance. The ambassador stepped close to Refa. "What did he mean that I'm...the 'architect' of our future victory?"

Refa chuckled again. "The war with the Narn is about to end. Much sooner than we thought. Come, Londo! Destiny awaits! Your hand shall reach out and end the war."

Londo covered up his startled horror with an expression of relief and looked up from his glass at Refa. Refa's words brought back the memory of the technomage Elric's words.

"_As I look at you, Ambassador Mollari, I see a great hand reaching out of the stars. The hand is your hand. And I hear sounds. The sounds of billions of people calling your name._"

"_My followers?_"

"_Your victims._"

**Babylon 5**

McCoy stared unbelievingly.

T'Sara was lying dutifully on a biobed in the _Enterprise_'s Sickbay. The bioreader showed that her mind endured rough treatment.

The Geneva Conventions may be a thing of the 20th and 21st century, but the Federation adopted that into interstellar law. If this Earth Alliance had the same history as his Earth, it should have the Geneva Conventions within itself!

That was concerning only the prisoner, T'Sara. He didn't want to think about the outrage of the Earth betrayal and violation of the _Hakudo Maru_. He glanced over at Kirk.

Kirk was pacing around Sickbay. He couldn't believe the audacity of EarthForce in trying to hijack an alien research ship. To screw a potential First Contact this much is...is....

"It's too much! It's an act of war! If EarthForce was always like this, no wonder the Minbari tried to destroy them!" Kirk wasn't sure if the Terran Empire stabbed more backs than EarthForce and PsiCorps together. At least the Imperial Starfleet was honest about its backstabbing ways.

"And we're alone..." continued Kirk. "Alone...and we can't do a thing about it." It was his greatest fear: loss of control over any situation and being alone. The _Enterprise_ alone cannot fight both the Centauri Republic and the Earth Alliance. "Betrayed.... Alone! Alone...."

"Jim."

It was Spock gazing calmly at Kirk.

Kirk looked back at Spock. That single word from the Vulcan man calmed him, forcing him to realize it was ridiculous to get hysterical. Still...what could he do?

Kirk searched Spock's face. "Captain Sheridan?" He liked Sheridan. He recognized something of himself in the EarthForce captain.

Spock knew what he was asking about. "This incident is regrettable. The captain is a member of EarthForce and it is precisely for that reason we can no longer afford to trust John Sheridan."

Kirk gaped and glanced at McCoy. He still couldn't believe this. This reality's Earth is not his Earth, but still...going against Earth is like betraying his own homeworld and people. Even though the Federation and Starfleet Command didn't exist on this Earth, Kirk couldn't help feeling like he would be committing high treason if he goes against the Earth Alliance. Earth against Earth. What kind of war would this be? A civil war? They need help. And lots of money. A cashless economy may be very well for the Federation, but it wouldn't do to be so poor in this universe. He'll need Gillian Taylor's help in that area.

The Centauri were probably on the lookout for him, and the Earth Alliance has betrayed them...they were fast running out of potential allies. The Minbari were too iffy and the Vorlons were too unknown. Perhaps the League of Non-Aligned Worlds? At least one League world already owed them a huge favor.

It was time to cash in some favors.

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Kirk walked down a corridor in Babyon 5's Green Sector with Dr. Gillian Taylor who was taking in as much as she could. While not as advanced, fluid or bright as a Federation Trojan-class starbase, the place impressed him. The space station was an attempt to be a forum of diplomatic intercourse between alien species and worlds, just as the United Nations was an attempt to keep order and peace among the ancient nation-states. His own Federation came into being mainly because of political and military cooperation among alien worlds in the face of the Earth-Romulan War. This quantum reality also had wars, but apparently, they didn't have a war that threatened to conquer many worlds at once and force these worlds into alliances.

Oh, he'd read about the Dilgar War and the Earth-Minbari War. The Dilgar, while terrible, were crushed by the might of EarthForce within a year. The Earth-Minbari War...there's a terrible tragedy of a mistake if ever he'd heard one. The Minbari focused only on the Earth Alliance so there weren't any interplanetary alliances. The Minbari were simply too powerful, but if they turned their military might on other worlds, something like the Federation might be made among those worlds. Too bad the Earth Alliance proved less than trustworthy.

The closest in this universe to his Federation was the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. His yearning for the Federation was causing him to think deeply about the League. That was part of the reason for his going to the ambassadorial suites.

"Captain! Excuse me, Captain Kirk!"

Kirk turned around at the voice behind him. Gillian almost gasped at the sight. An alien dressed in what appeared to be a militant formal dress approached him. He reminded him of Klingons. Kirk wasn't sure if the alien was reptilian or something else entirely. What species was he? A...a Narn. The Narn inclined his head respectfully to Gillian.

"Captain Kirk.... I'm Ambassador G'Kar of the Narn Regime."

Kirk knew that his people, the Narn, were at war with the Centauri. He nodded for G'Kar to continue.

"Captain Kirk, I...my people needs help with the Centauri...." G'Kar stopped at Kirk raising his hand to halt the Narn ambassador's words.

"I'm aware of your war. I'm sorry...I cannot involve myself or my crew in your war."

G'Kar sputtered. "But...but you're at war with the Centauri! You've defeated two of their warships single-handedly already! And...and your ship shows some obvious Vree design. Surely, you've heard of the outrageous Centauri attack on the Gliese 86 Outpost?"

Gillian glanced at the Starfleet captain beside her. Kirk frowned. Where did the Narn ambassador hear about that? "Ambassador, my ship is not Vree, nor is it free for any mercenary work. The fight was a...unfortunate incident, but the Centauri has not declared war on me yet."

The Narn wagged a finger at the Federation starship captain. "Mark my words, Kirk.... The Centauri will not tolerate such an affront for long." G'Kar sighed and looked like the world was weighing down on him. It was hard to admit anything so difficult to a non-Narn. "The war is not going well. We've lost 30 years worth of territories. You won't help at all? My government and people would be eternally grateful no matter the result."

Kirk stared at G'Kar grimly. "I am sorry. I must follow the Prime Directive of my government and Starfleet. A non-interference directive. Even if I could, I'm only one ship against entire fleets, an entire empire. I may be a gambler of my fate, but those odds are not good. Didn't you try to negotiate for a cease-fire? Sue for peace?"

G'Kar was disappointedly shaking his head. "The Centauri won't accept anything less than unconditional surrender or complete conquest. You could...merely visit my homeworld. Just for a day. If the Centauri happen to shoot, all you have to do is defend yourself."

Seeing Kirk's negative expression, G'Kar sighed. "If you won't go, couldn't you at least...sell your shield technology?"

Kirk was surprised. G'Kar smiled. "Do you think we don't have spies among our enemies?"

"Ambassador, my Prime Directive also forbids the sale of any technology to anyone without the approval of Starfleet Command and the Federation Council."

G'Kar was outraged. "Don't be absurd! You're alone here! You don't have your superior commanders or your government!" He forced himself to calm down. It wouldn't do to drive away a potential ally. "Captain, I know your ship is in need of completing repairs...and I understand that you don't have any money. My government is prepared to pay an extremely generous amount of money for whatever material you need, provided you help with our defense. Any amount of money you need."

Gillian gasped and widened her eyes and turned to Kirk, using her facial expression to insist he accept. Kirk felt pained. He could sympathize with G'Kar even though the Federation had never experienced such a war. He couldn't say that he wasn't tempted by the offer of money and material for his stranded crew. He knew that he might feel differently if war with the Klingons occurred without Organian interference. But he must keep his Federation-ness by holding to the Prime Directive. The _Enterprise_ was only one starship alone in the night.

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G'Kar entered his quarters and saw Warleader G'Sten still anxiously waiting. Seeing G'Kar's expression, G'Sten proudly, but grimly, crossed his arms to his chest and bowed. "So. We are still alone. The attack on Gorash 7 goes on."

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Gillian was feeling a little overwhelmed. So much of the space station reminded her of the old United States. They were at Babylon 5 for only a few days and already, they were deeply involved with the local interstellar politics. She looked at Kirk as they walked in tense silence. While it was not within her bounds to question Kirk's decisions, she felt they should be able to help the Narn. As Kirk said, they were running out of potential allies. What allies they had were very iffy. The Vree were now at war with the Centauri, the Earth Alliance was very disappointing to say the least, and the Markab were still recovering from the Drafa Plague.

They finally arrived at the intended door. Kirk pressed the buzzer.

The door opened and a Markab stood there.

Kirk bowed his head in formal respect. "Ambassador Fashar, I presume?"

Fashar bowed painfully. He had contracted Drafa, but was saved in time by Dr. Franklin and Dr. Lazarenn with the formula sent from the Markab homeworld. Fashar gestured for Kirk and Gillian to enter his quarters. Black curtains and bunting hung everywhere.

Seeing Gillian's curious looks, Fashar said, "We are in mourning. Four-tenth of my people died before the Dark Angel of Drafa could pass over us." Fashar gasped softly. "I may have sinned, but the Dark Angel saw fit that you should pass on your cure to save the rest of us. What can we do for our saviors?"

Kirk took a deep breath uncomfortably. "Your homeworld needed all the resources it could get to rebuild itself. But your people was generous enough to install a tachyon communication array—"

Fashar interrupted. "Yes, yes, yes. I'm aware of that. It was most unfortunate that the government fell before they could do more for your ship. I understand you still need repairs...?" While Fashar was thankful for the Salvation, he was bitter about that particular incident. Many of the people, disillusioned with their priests, rose in revolt, causing the theocracy to collapse. Since Fashar was a member of the ruling priesthood, he might be recalled to Markab at any moment. If not by the secularist Provisional Government, then by any of the factions that gain ascendancy on Markab, including the military and the surviving theocrats.

Kirk sat in one of the ambassador's lounge chairs and nodded. "We could not impose ourselves on Markab and we realize that the new Provisional Government needed all the resources it could find to reestablish order on Markab and its colonies. Babylon 5 has resources we need. There is one resource that we severely lack for getting those resources. Money."

Ambassador Fashar frowned. "All of our resources are pouring into reestablishing order. We could not spare much."

Gillian leaned forward. "We really need money. Any amount you could spare would be acceptable."

The Markab ambassador sighed. "Even just a little would drain our resources. Captain Kirk, you could have lent your services to keeping order on Markab." His voice was edged with resentment.

The captain shook his head apologetically. "Like I said, we could not impose ourselves further on your homeworld. I'm sorry that your government has fallen, but the Markab people must manage their own affairs. Imposing ourselves would aggravate the situation further."

Fashar held himself back in time before he could shout in the human's face. He'd heard rumors that Captain Kirk disapproved of theocracies and that rumor had circulated in the streets before the Dome of Truth was stormed by the rebellious mob. Fashar was most upset when he watched the ISN vid showing the people dragging the body of the red-robed High Priest down a street in the capital with several temples burning in the background. Didn't they learn from the Dark Angel? Such sins were enough for the Angel to return. Thank the gods for small mercies. Kirk must share in the fault of the current chaos.

The ambassador forced himself to feel grateful for Kirk's Salvation. The gods had seen fit to send this Savior. Fashar pulled out a chit from within his robes. "Captain, this gives you access to my credit account." He held up a hand, halting Kirk's protests. "The _official_ account, not my _personal_ account. I believe our Markab money is worthless. But until the Provisional Government announces a new currency or the Markab economy has stabilized, Babylon 5 will accept this money on the pre-Drafa value."

Gillian nodded at Kirk eagerly. This was good. But they doubted they'd have enough to cover the repairs of the _Enterprise_ and _Hakudo Maru_. They thanked the ambassador profusely and Fashar saw them out of the door. Once the door was shut, Fashar turned to his liquor cabinet. Usually, the liquor was reserved for guests, but he felt like drinking like a Centauri. Ambassador Fashar may be recalled by the Markab Provisional Government at any moment. And he may then have to stand beneath the Dome of Truth before the damned secularists.

xxxxxxx

Gillian shook her head with disappointment. The amount of money shown on the vid when she inserted the Markab ambassador's credit chit. It was a lot, but definitely not enough to buy material for both Federation ships. She pressed a button to release the chit back into her hand. Captain Kirk had made her some sort of secretary of the economy due to her knowledge of 20th century currency. He'd refused to sell anything from both ships. What was she going to do?

The noise and bustle of the Zocalo reminded her of Sunday market in San Francisco. Except instead of just English, Spanish and the occasional Japanese, completely alien languages of completely different sounds not reproducible by humans filled the bazaar-like setting. Instead of the weirdness of punks, the trendiness of gays, and the ordinariness of regular citizens, aliens of every size, shape and color milled around. Gillian sensed eyes and she turned around to see who was looking at her. It was one of the aliens. The female alien's skin color reminded her of a lobster, but the skin looked slick, smooth and she had a fin running over the middle of her head. Her dress made her think of a cross between linen and seaweed. An amphibious species? That appealed to her fascination with marine biology.

The female amphibian bowed with formal respect. Gillian didn't quite know how to response, so she only smiled politely.

"You are from the extra-universal ship, are you not?"

"Yes...."

The female alien bowed once more. "I am Kalika Qwal'mizra, tale-mistress and Ambassador for the Abbai Matriarchate. Is your ship captain here?"

Gillian was nervous about this. She was not sure if she should take this Kalika to Captain Kirk or call the captain over. Oh hell, screw it. She _is_ the Federation's new Finance Minister.

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Ambassador Kalika was looking around with wide-eyed wonder. This ship was definitely not Earther or Vree. Everything was bright, neat and spoke of centuries of technological progress down entirely different paths. Abbai ships, while quite advanced and much more fluid than the _Enterprise_, were not as airy as this. While going over in a Federation shuttle (with its own gravity control technology!), she had thought the ship to be too small to have a jumpengine until the human woman Gillian Taylor told her that it ran on its own FTL drive. The ship looked fragile but then again, even the strongest Abbai warships looked incredibly fragile.

And such a diverse crew! Aliens she'd never seen or heard of before, a few that appear similar or familiar enough. And these aliens were working smoothly and efficiently with the human crewmen. That part was shocking. EarthForce would never admit an alien into it in spite of the fact that the Earth Alliance's frontier colonial bureaucracy had aliens within, and that there were alien immigrants on the inner Earther colonies as well as Earth itself.

The Abbai had been strong promoters of the League, if only to spread the peace so that Abbai everywhere could be kept safe. Kalika was escorted into a turbolift by Gillian. Gillian spoke to the empty air. "Deck 3."

The Abbai ambassador was surprised to find the turbolift moving horizontally, very fast if the flashing in the side was any indication. The flashing soon indicated the lift to be slowing, then moving up. The horizontal and upward motion was repeated once more. And Kalika wasn't feeling any motion in the lift! Gravity or inertia control even on a thing as a lift! Such a luxury on such a small starship was almost unheard of except in advanced luxury liners.

Kalika had to resist interrogating Dr. Taylor. The turbolift soon slowed once more and stopped. The doors opened to reveal a short corridor with doors on either side. Kalika could see a double door at the right end of the corridor. Apparently, this was the destination for the Abbai visitor.

Gillian smiled at Kalika. "The captain is in the VIP Lounge there." She walked with her to the double doors, causing it to open at their approach.

The VIP Lounge that the doors revealed was spacious and multi-level. Huge windows afforded a panoramic view of the back of the _Enterprise_. Comfortable-looking chairs and curving couches shared the space with potted plants and flowers. A human man was sitting in a couch with a pointy-eared alien man.

"Captain Kirk, Captain Spock," announced Gillian. "This is Ambassador Kalika of the Abbai."

The two men clad in red uniforms stood up to greet Ambassador Kalika. Those uniforms had expelled any doubt she had about the _Enterprise_ being a military vessel.

"Gentlemen, I shall go straight to the point. The Abbai diplomatic intelligence has reports of your vessel's performance against the Centauri near Quadrant 27."

Kirk and Spock were surprised. Did everyone know what happened? Kirk spoke with not a little suspicion. "What do you want, Madame Ambassador?"

Kalika took a deep breath. "I urge you not to share any of your technologies, especially the shield technology."

Spock arched an eyebrow. "Ambassador, our Starfleet regulations forbid the sharing or the sale of any Starfleet technology with non-aligned species. Captain Kirk has already been asked to share the shield technology. Suffice to say, he refused."

Kirk nodded determinedly. "And we will continue to refuse."

Kalika was skeptical. "Captains, I am very well aware of your needs. Circumstances may force you to disregard those regulations and begin sharing, if only to survive."

Spock inclined his head in agreement. "While distasteful, that is logical. I do not understand your concern. You must, at least, also share others' desire for our technology."

Kalika smiled. A smart being, this one, rather like one of the philosophical members of the Minbari religious caste. "My people have a similar force shield technology. Not even the Minbari have it, not that they actually need it. We have steadfastly refused to even sell it to any other race. We believe that should others have it, many more lives would be lost in the abuse of that technology."

Spock quirked his eyebrow once more. "Are shields not a defensive technology? Wouldn't they save lives on ships protected by shields?"

A smart being, indeed. "Normally, I would say yes. However, people have an ingenuity for turning defensive measures into offensive measures. Imagine the Centauri having the force shield technology. Centauri warships would smash through our worlds with impunity. Possibly even the Minbari may not be safe from such aggression."

Kirk nodded. They didn't have to think about that in their home universe. Just about every sufficiently advanced world had shield technology, but here, only the Abbai had it with a few other species like the Vree, Centauri and possibly the Minbari using a type of gravity field as a defense screen.

"Ambassador, I assure you that no one will get any technology from us."

Kalika was still skeptical. Poverty and piracy would make anyone do what they normally wouldn't do. "Thank you. However, I still think circumstances may force you. To help prevent this, my government is prepared to pay you a monthly stipend. Just to keep you from poverty. On one condition...."

Here it comes. Kirk knew that no one could be generous without wanting something in return.

"...that you send an envoy to my homeworld."

The Federationers were surprised. Kirk grinned. This was an opportunity for them to establish good relations with other worlds in this universe. He knew just who should be the Federation's first ambassador to the League, or at least the Abbai.

"I will accept on one condition: that you provide us with full information on all known worlds in this part of the galaxy."

It was easy enough to grant, so Kalika bowed in acceptance. "Please pardon my curiosity, but who would be your envoy?"

Kirk grinned more widely as he looked at Dr. Gillian Taylor. Realizing what this meant, Gillian's face shone with excitement. It was her chance to see how marine biology could give rise to an intelligent sentient species like the Abbai!

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"This is the first of many alliances for the coming war."

Sheridan and Delenn were very grateful for the generosity. And extremely relieved. The Great Machine within Epsilon 3 would help make Babylon 5 a bastion against the gathering darkness. It would be one of the few places that were able to resist the Shadows. Draal continued.

"You are not alone in the struggle. Succeed and there is a great possibility of hope." Draal focused his holographic eyes fully on Sheridan. "It may not be a good idea to allow knowledge of our new alliance to reach your Earth government."

Delenn was still concerned about Draal being alone deep within a dead planet. She knew that prolonged loneliness can do odd things to your mind. She was about to voice her concerns when Draal continued to speak.

"Captain Sheridan. Delenn. The stars keep me company and allow me to see. What this means, I am aware of what transpires on Babylon 5 and in far away worlds such as Janos 7." Draal smiled brightly, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I am not the only ally that you could have. There is another, in particular, who...." Draal sighed sadly. "Such an alliance would hold great hope for us all. It is unfortunate that distrust must be overcome first."

Sheridan and Delenn were puzzled. Who was the Minbari custodian of the Great Machine talking about? Delenn was about to speak once more when Draal frowned and held a hand up to his head. "I am picking up distress calls. You must go back to Babylon 5. Now."

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Kirk and Spock were walking through the bustle of the Zocalo once more. They'd just seen Gillian to the Abbai transport bound for Abba IV. Kirk wished her best of luck. Gillian's presence on Abba IV may help the _Enterprise_ to build support upon the League of Non-Aligned Worlds.

"Spock, isn't this wonderful?"

Spock was still visually studying the various alien beings in the Zocalo. "Jim, this is indeed an opportunity to...." The Vulcan stopped when ads and vids playing on the monitor screens throughout the space station were suddenly replaced by the image of an ISN newscaster.

_"We interrupt this program with this late-breaking story. Officials in EarthDome confirm that the Centauri Republic has begun a devastating frontal assault on the Narn homeworld. Reports continue to come in, alleging that the main Narn fleet has been neutralized and that Narn is completely encircled by its enemies. Neither government has yet confirmed nor denied these reports, though some messages relayed from Narn seem to corroborate the stories of massive destruction and death...."_

Kirk and Spock looked at each other in shock. Kirk felt sick. He could have accepted Ambassador G'Kar's offer and help the Narn save lives from the Centauri attack on their homeworld. He hoped that his future decisions wouldn't condemn millions to death. The ISN newscaster's voice was drowning in a rising rumbling noise in the Zocalo. He was horrified to realize that the Narn and Centauri patrons were beginning a riot with each other and the two stranded Federationers were caught in the middle.

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After over a century, the Centauri were back. Twelve Primus-class battlecruisers approached Narn, escorted by Vorchan-class cruisers and darting Sentri fighters. The illegal mass driver launchers under the battlecruisers churned up energy for acceleration until they were able to send white-hot asteroids crashing down at the Narn homeworld. Each asteroid struck a Narn city or military installation. On the Centauri Royal Navy flagship _Valerius_, Londo Mollari watched it all helplessly through a port window, the end result of the Narn-Centauri War that he helped instigate nine months before.

Nine months. Londo knew that it was how long an impregnated human mother would wait until giving birth.

Nine months in which the Darkness grew and gathered strength. A battlecruiser soon blocked the last gleaming of the 82 Eridani sun, casting Londo in shadow. Another mass driver flashed past on the way to Narn, churning up the planetary atmosphere in dust storms and murderous shockwaves.

Narn continued to writhe in the throes that would give birth to Chaos. And Ambassador Londo Mollari was condemned to be the midwife. Horrified disgust and shame welled up in Londo as millions of Narn died.

_"Your victims."_

Londo hung his head in sickening shame.


	11. Unnatural Diplomacy Part 1

_Gyre and Zarathos1: RAFO on Draal._

_X-Over: You'll see how the _Excelsior_ and its group handle the ST raiders._

_Aaron: Interesting thought on the League. Will the League coalesce into another Federation? We'll see...._

_AlbertG: There IS a bullseye painted on both ST ships as we will soon see, no matter how much Kirk and co. try to stay out of local affairs. Thank you for your e-mails!_

_eddys: Thanks! :o) What reason does the _Hakudo Maru_ to sell its shield tech? Like a child just brutally abused, it would hold on to any security it had to protect itself. As a civilian ship, it would give all military matters to the nearest Starfleet authority, which is the _Enterprise_ at the moment._

_The Abbai force shield tech is semi-canon. Even though it has not been mentioned or shown in the B5 episodes, many websites, including and Voltayre's Encyclopedia Xenobiologica, appear to accept that the Abbai has shield tech, something that the Minbari doesn't have. As Voltayre explained: "Of all the races in the Alliance, the Abbai are the most pacifistic. While the Abbai do not believe in violence or conquest, they realize the need to defend themselves. Abbai weapons technology focuses on disarmament and the disabling of specific systems on enemy warships. Their ships and orbital platforms are capable of generating powerful force shields that can repel most assaults." )_

_trekkifulron: Thanks!_

_This chapter takes place just after the Babylon 5 episode_ The Long Twilight Struggle_, if you have not figured out the timeline from the Centauri assault on Narn in the previous chapter._

* * *

**ISN News Center, Geneva, Earth**

A woman was sitting alone at ISN's towering anchor desk in a vast chamber. The primly dressed and beautiful woman turned to face you as the lights brightened.

"Good evening, I'm Cynthia Torqueman. After the recent effort to recover Narn, the Centauri Republic has implemented its plan to annex several smaller worlds neighboring former Narn space, declaring them protectorates of the Republic. One such world is the planet Mipas, a client world on the border of the Drazi Freehold. For decades, the Drazi had the Mipasians depending on them for economic support—" The anchorwoman halted to listen to something in her earpiece. Eyes widening, she turned back to you.

"This just in. One of our intrepid traveling reporters has obtained the permission of a Centauri military commander, Lord Marix, to visually record one of his security actions to defend Mipas against a Drazi force. This is an ISN exclusive." Cynthia turned away from you to watch a vidscreen to her side.

Twelve Drazi sunhawks were seen to approach a Centauri force of four Vorchans arranged in front of a planet with clouds slowly moving over green continents and aquamarine seas. The Drazi fired many missiles at the Centauri. As the missiles approached them, the Vorchans aimed their ion cannon turrets atop themselves and fired. The powerful ion bolts impacted on the missiles, causing an explosive chain reaction among them.

A panel opened under the head of each of the four Vorchans. Out of them flew gravitic torpedoes, one for each sunhawk. The Drazi attempted to maneuver their way out of the torpedoes' paths. Each died a fiery death as a torpedo made a direct hit.

The Vorchans returned to their holding position around the planet Mipas as—

Cynthia spoke once more to you. "Sources in EarthDome reveal that EarthGov is discussing what to do about the apparent Centauri expansionism. Government spokespersons assure us that EarthForce is ever ready and vigilant against the dangers of alien influence in the Earth Alliance. In related news, the EarthForce ships _Ares_ and _Brittany_ has returned from an undisclosed military action at Janos 7. Information about that action is sparse but rumors point to unprecedented piracy in the Janos System. Military officers have refused to speak with us on this, but we've managed to reach a subordinate officer of the _Ares_ on Mars."

An EarthForce officer in the uniform of a lieutenant was sitting at a bar, holding a sun-colored drink in which a red globe was floating and slowly dissolving. It was soon clear that the camera was close to the tabletop and the officer was not aware of it. "You sure don't want a Jovian Sunspot? Ok.... Promise you won't tell anyone about this? Right.... Well, lemme tell you." The man leaned in forward closer to you. "Yes. Lemme tell you. This raider is no pirate ship. Force shields. Yes, force shields, I said! It was supposed to be a skeet shoot, but the shields on that tiny ship made it like fighting a Minbari warcruiser." The lieutenant shuddered. "One tiny ship against two of us and we lost! Shield tech is the key. You know the Centauri wars? Of course, what was I thinking? Well, if EarthForce has the shield tech, no alien bastard can hurt us. Hell, we could bring the Battle of the Line to Minbar itself!"

Small disapproval could be seen on Cynthia's face before she wiped it off, realizing that we were watching her again. "While Lieutenant Green has been helpful, he will be reprimanded by the Ministry for Public Morale. The Office of Public Information has nothing to say about this except to comment that the Abbai embassy claims that it has no _official_ information about this...."

**Babylon 5**

"...we will deliver notice to the parliament of conquerors that a line has been drawn against the darkness, and we will hold that line, no matter the cost."

The Rangers cheered, both humans and Minbari. Delenn smiled at Sheridan. Perhaps this time, the Shadows would stop at the line. If it goes well, greatness would belong to the Light. Sheridan deserves some cheering after things had not been going his way, as he just said. And she would be there to share his burden. She was still smiling when Delenn sensed someone staring straight at her and she turned to see who it was. Ambassador Kosh's eyepiece narrowed at her. The Vorlon turned its back on her and moved out of the crowd. Instead of leaving the room quietly as was usual for the Vorlon, Kosh turned to look back at Delenn. The mysterious ambassador seemed to be waiting for her.

Delenn frowned, wondering what was wrong this time. She smiled once more at Sheridan and squeezed his arm before allowing him to acquaint himself with the Rangers. She moved quietly among the Rangers to the majestic Vorlon ambassador.

"Kosh, what is it?"

The tinkling of the Vorlon was the only audible indication of an orchestra playing below the range of human and Minbari hearing. "The Newcomers. They breach the Circle."

Delenn was a little confused. So far, the people on the extra-universal ships _Enterprise_ and _Hakudo Maru_ had not done anything untoward. Although the presence of Vulcans was troubling. "They have not done anything wrong."

"They are an error," Kosh chimed. "Return the error and the Wheel will turn as the Wheel will."

"But...."

Kosh glided closer to Delenn. She had always felt the imposing presence of Kosh to be awesome holy majesty. But now...she was feeling threatened by that presence. She resisted the temptation to back away out of respect for the Vorlon.

"They must not meddle." Kosh turned to the direction of the exit and glided away.

Delenn stared at Kosh's retreating back, bewildered.

**Eohippus System**

The starship captain turned his chair to face the officer at Tactical. "Anything?"

"Long-range sensors read negative, sir."

"Damn," cursed Captain Sulu. He peered back at the main viewscreen. Presently, it was showing empty starscape. A small planet's surface glowed in the Eohippus sun in the far distance.

Janice Rand turned to Captain Sulu and said, "General Moghar of the _Ki'tang_ signals his combat readiness."

Sulu smirked. "Again? Our allies are a bit ready." Chuckling, Sulu sat back into his command chair. Klingons may be that, but frankly, it reassured him to have the galaxy's best warriors at his side. Federation monitor stations had reported the passage of a fleet through the Moab System over 10 light-years away. Though the Moabites wouldn't like to admit it, there wasn't anything worthy of the raiders' attention. Five light-years coreward behind both ships, Sulu knew, was the Denobula Triaxa System, and eight light-years behind the ships and slightly spinward of Denobula was the Tellar System. Either alien homeworld could attract the raiding fleet, but Starfleet Command wanted the raiders stopped. This meant a stand in Eohippus. Fortunately, auxiliary military crafts from Tellar and Denobula had recently arrived to join in establishing a line of resistance, forming a fleet of 12 vessels.

Sulu glanced up to his left side where Ambassador Miranda Jones was still standing, staring blindly at the main viewscreen, waiting to be the one to make First Contact. She might be able to sense minds approaching the flotilla. All reports indicated that the raiders did not possess cloaking technology, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially this close to the Federation core worlds. Sulu once again thanked the stars for the peace with the Klingon Imperial Empire.

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General Moghar threw the half-chewed leg of targ, splattering it against a wall. He cursed his connections once more. Though Colonel Worf was not involved in General Chang's conspiracy, the fact that he was chosen by Chang to be Kirk and McCoy's defender in the court-arena was enough to attract the ire of Chancellor Azetbur after Khitomer. And Moghar was Colonel Worf's friend. Much more distant from Chang than the colonel, but it was enough to have him sent on this mission with the puny Starfleeters.

Moghar's office doorchime sounded. Moghar grunted and hit his desk with a fist. The resounding bang signaled that the visitor should come in. The door rumbled open, admitting Commander Narg.

Glancing nonchalantly at the greasy mess on the wall where Moghar threw the leg of targ. "We are getting restless. We have been following the Federation ship for weeks and not even a battle!"

Moghar's lips drew in something between a grin and a sneer. "I'm very aware of that. We have our orders."

Narg growled. "Orders from a chancellor who shouldn't have been a chancellor. Hah! These Federation _petaQ_ get scared by a few pirates and they come running to us for help. If we knew they are like frightened women, we'd abolish the Neutral Zone with ships instead of this...this...treaty!"

Moghar locked eyes with Narg. The general forced himself to keep staring. If he backed down, it would be seen as weakness and Narg would then have the right to seize the _Ki'tang_'s captaincy.

The seconds ticked by silently until Narg snarled and looked away. Moghar grunted in satisfaction. "Commander, the Federation may be like a bunch of women, but only a fool thinks a targ or a woman can truly be tame."

Narg looked skeptical.

"_General._" That came from the ship's intercom speakers.

"Moghar," the general responded to the air.

"_You're needed in the bridge._"

Narg and Moghar looked at each other. That meant they finally got the battle they had been waiting for.

xxxxxxxxx

Sulu gaped as he stood from his command chair. "My God...."

The golden-white energy of subspace caressed the golden hull of each craft as it emerged from a subspace vortex. The vessels glowed momentarily with the energy of subspace before the energy dissipated away. The golden-brown hull glistened as if it was the armor of beetles. The armor appeared arranged like overlapping layers of tree barks. Faint pulsing rear-facing red-orange light shone from beneath the jagged edge of each layer as if they were embers smoldering from within the ships. The ships, shaped like slender yams, were small, looking to be the size of the Oberth-class starships, but obviously with a lot more mass. _Fighters_, concluded Captain Sulu.

Ensign Tuvok, sitting where Dmitri Valtane once had his station, said, "This type of star drive is not unlike what the Xindi used in the Delphic Conflict before the Federation was formed. And, Captain. The vessels are of an organic material." While Tuvok was matter-of-fact like any Vulcan would be, he was not immune to the wonder they were seeing on the main viewscreen. Tuvok's report caused the crew to look even more stunned than before. Bioships. The dream of dreamers, writers and scientists.

More kept coming out of subspace. A swarm of fourteen. Then four larger ships gleaming more golden than the smaller vessels emerged. Those ships were larger than the _Excelsior_, measuring 1542 meters against the starship's 467 meters. They had red tattoo-like markings which were probably the alien's script. Each had a bulbous oval body which tapered at one end into three tails that connected at their own ends. Stardust appeared to fall away from the crisscrossing clean lines on the large ships' hull. Then the fabric of space appeared to split into a long vertical line of subspace stitching. The line of crackling subspace energy caressed apart to reveal one more alien ship. This one was a golden brown with glowing blue edges which were obviously their version of warp nacelles built into the structure of the three-edged vessel. A few green marker lights shone here and there on the vertical ship. This vessel, obviously their capital ship, made Sulu think of an alien spine. A chill crept up the captain's own spine as he looked at the sensor reading relayed to his chair. The spine-vessel was a mile long. Or was it a mile _tall_?

Miranda Jones gasped. She muttered dreamily, "They're...alive. The ships.... They're alive."

Not only bioships, but _living_ bioships to boot!

Miranda reached out with her mind, reaching toward the approaching living bioships. She tried to touch the minds of the bioships, seeking First Contact. She had been surprised at the strength of the bioships' telepathic reach. She was startled to find other minds within one of the bioships. The minds of the ship's crew moving through the vessel's chambers and corridors, and coordinated with each other. She sought the pilot, the leader, whoever felt most prominent. She reached into what felt like the control center. The mind residing within this chamber was one of the strongest on the bioship. The pilot-commander's mind noticed her through the bioship's telepathy. The bioship's mind was directed to roughly throw Miranda back to the _Excelsior_.

Miranda stumbled, catching hold of the table-plinth in front of Sulu's command chair. Composing herself, Miranda signaled to Sulu that she was fine. It was a surprising paradox. The alien minds were only borderline telepathic, just strong enough to commune by touch or through the bioship. The bioship's telepathy, however, was much stronger. Miranda surmised that each bioship's telepathy was strong enough to reach across an entire sector.

To reach so far.... Miranda shuddered at the envy she felt for that.

Janice Rand winced as her communication earpiece crackled in her ear. "Captain, they're hailing us."

"Visual."

The bridge crew took sharp breaths as the view shifted to that of an alien lit by green lighting. Glittering ruby almond-shaped wrap-around eyes stared back at the crew. His head was the shape of a heart and made some of the Earth humans think of the head of a ceratop dinosaur with the eyes set close to the bottom of the face. The brown head was edged with gray dull spikes. Its beak appeared to be made of the same gray bone-like material. An upside-down pentagon-shaped placard or shell set above the ruby eyes and beak sported an elaborate tattoo-like design on it.

"_We are the Kam'Jahtae, We Who Defend. You have been given the rare honor of looking upon our face._" The alien turned its glittering ruby composite-looking eyes to Ambassador Miranda. She shuddered at the caressing mental touch. The alien bowed its head to her. "_We thank you for your taste._"

The main viewscreen cut back to the view of the approaching alien fleet. Sulu looked back at Janice Rand. Janice said, "They cut the link. Sir, General Moghar is hailing us."

Sulu turned back to the main viewscreen. He caught the light in the small alien ships' jagged edges beginning to glow brighter before he saw the visage of a Klingon staring dangerously at Sulu out of a reddened darkness. Moghar grinned, revealing his fangs. The general looked happy, yet confused and angry at the same time.

"_Captain Sulu, they are the Hur'q. They must pay for what they did to my homeworld. You have given us a good day to die. Thank you. Songs shall be sung about this day. _Qapla!"

The viewscreen once more cut back to the view of the approaching alien fleet. The light from the jagged edges of the bioships' armor was now much brighter, the brightness of a roaring fire.

"Shields! Shields!" Sulu ordered. Explanations for what General Moghar said must wait for later.

xxxxxxxx

Three of the smaller vessels shot forward into the midst of the flotilla, taking potshots from phasers and disruptors. The Klingon K'Vort-class bird-of-prey was most aggressive in trying to eject the three from within the flotilla. The energy of the Federation and Klingon weapons dissipated along the alien armors while the physical impact was absorbed by shields fainter and weaker than either the Klingons' or the Federation's.

The pilot-commander of the lead vessel had received orders from the Kam'Jahtae Arbiter to disable rather than destroy. They needed information.

The pilot-commander reached through his trance with his vessel to the other two sister-ships. _Danger...Press._

The energy traces in the jagged edges of the vessels' overlapping layers glowed a brilliant white. Around each vessel, a narrow ring of blue-white energy formed like a shockwave radiating from its surface in all directions. Bright star-like motes preceded the shockwaves. The blue-white energy shockwaves passed over the nearest auxiliary ships. Tellarite and Denobulan shields flared momentarily before collapsing under the blue-white onslaught. Five of the more fragile auxiliary ships exploded into shards of metal and dust among tumbling intact siblings.

Since the purpose was to disable, the shockwave immediately wavered and faded until only a ghost of it was left to pass over other ships of the defending flotilla. Where the three shockwaves met, they canceled each other out. The aggressive _Ki'tang_'s shields flared as the Klingon warship tumbled end over end within an energy shockwave.

The shockwave left other auxiliary vessels shaken as it reached the rear of the _Excelsior_. The starship looked like someone physically kicked its butt as it stumbled forward, rear shields flaring into life. Mercifully, the blue-white shockwave vanished completely before moving along the full length of the _Excelsior_'s warp nacelles.

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The lights flickered, verging on failure, as the bridge crew was shaken about. A few standing crewmen failed to grab hold of their consoles before falling down to the deck. Miranda Jones practically hugged the captain's table-plinth for stability as the starship shook. She winced as she shut down her mind against the mental screams of pain battering her.

Sulu held his breath, hoping that the _Excelsior_ would survive intact. They still had the rest of the alien fleet to handle. When the starship stabilized itself, he barked out, "Status!"

Lieutenant Leonard James Akaar had succeeded in holding onto the Tactical station instead of falling down like some of the other standing crewmen. The bridge lights returned to normal, once more making his golden sash glitter. "Partial failure of aft shields. Few minor injuries reported. No other damages."

Sulu fumed. Only three of their ships had disabled almost the entire flotilla. He had a feeling the shockwave was not made at full strength. "Target torpedoes on their engines!"

Akaar shook his head. "Sir, sensors cannot detect engines. They have an unknown energy source."

Sulu frowned grimly. He could see the _Ki'tang_ stabilizing itself on the main viewscreen. It was now firing disruptors and photon torpedoes at the three vessels still in the middle of the flotilla. "Ms. Rand, signal all ships to fire at the intruders to disable. Fire, Mr. Akaar."

Flaring red stars shot out of the Federation ships with phasers for company. The three Kam'Jahtae ships writhed under the return fire. One of them crumpled before tearing apart. The other two turned about and blue-white motes flew from their energy traces, forming darts of stars to slam into the flotilla's surviving ships.

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The bridge was falling apart around General Moghar. Commander Narg was lying on the deck, blood oozing from a gash on his head. Most likely, Narg was dead. The _Ki'tang_'s shields were down to sixteen percent.

"The Hur'q fight well," growled Moghar.

The gunner, Kazj, said, "The Hur'q still die like dogs when facing true warriors. Like they died in our glorious defense of Qo'noS a thousand years ago."

Kullor, the female scanner, reported loudly in battle language, "The Denobulan ship _Metto_ is going at the Hur'q at ramming speed!"

Moghar stood and shouted, "Are they crazy? On screen!"

He could see the Denobulan militia ship making its way through the debris and around other ships, all the while firing at the two Hur'q ships. Tactical data playing along the side of the screen showed that their shields were almost down, communications destroyed and weapons almost spent. Warp power was down, too.

Kazj laughed uproariously. "Insane like Romulans! The _Metto_'s warp core will breach soon. These Federation softies could fight like _grishnar_ cats after all!"

The general grinned. Perhaps the Federation could be honorable allies for the Klingon Empire after all. "Impulse, move us away from them."

The Denobulan ship bore the brunt of defense fire from the alien ships until its warp core finally breached. Blinding light enveloped the _Metto_ and the surviving alien bioships. Other auxiliary ships had already made the same conclusion as General Moghar and maneuvered themselves away.

When the light finally faded, all they could see was a spreading cloud of dust and tiny debris.

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On the vertical mile-long spine-vessel, the Arbiter had had enough. The Arbiter directed his Vanguard ship to send a message to the rest of the fleet. Instead of swarming and destroying this flotilla as they usually did, they wasted lives and ships trying to disable the enemy. It was time to extract the information directly. _Gomtuu...go._

One of the fighter-bioships edged its way forward, keeping out of range of the Federation's weapons range.

xxxxxxx

The ensign manning the small computer room was getting tired of being shaken about all the time. _Join Starfleet, they said. See the galaxy, they said. By the time it's over, I'll be as black-and-blue as a Betelgeusian._ Behind the ensign, the air rippled, shimmered and solidified into a Kam'Jahtae soldier. It raised a slender silvery stinger-like weapon. Blue-white energy blasted out of it, hitting the ensign in the back. Satisfied at the way the ensign slumped down to the deck, the soldier stepped forward and reversed its weapon so that its sharp end pointed at the console. The soldier stabbed down into the console, penetrating the surface with the sharp point of the weapon. The lights of the computer console flickered in protest at this violation, reflected by the facets of the soldier's ruby eyes. Its task completed, the soldier pulled the weapon out of the cracked console, and stepped back. Pressing a depression in the weapon's handle, space-time folded, ignoring the obstacle of this starship's faltering shields, and the soldier fold-spaced, vanished into the heat-haze like rippling and shimmering air which then stilled once more.

The Kam'Jahtae ships then turned their energy from weapons-mode and invisibly channeled the energy into the fabric of space. The ships, one by one, slowly moved forward, the golden-white subspace energy crackling around their hull at the point where they submerged into subspace. The triple-tailed large ships parted their tails as the stardust of subspace energy filled their hull's lines, entering their own energy portals. The subspace energy portals snapped shut behind each vessel. The decimated Federation flotilla was left alone with the Klingon warship in the Eohippus System to lick their wounds.

**Babylon 5**

Frederick Lantz nodded smilingly. "Thank you, Captain." The vidlink to Earth cut off, showing the StellarCom logo.

Sheridan let out a breath he had been holding in disbelieving frustration. He stalked out of his office.

Sheridan arrived at a door and pressed a button for the transport tube. Waiting impatiently, Sheridan tried to distract himself from what Mr. Lantz said. He still couldn't believe what the Ministry of Peace wanted him to do. He could have disregarded Mr. Lantz, except MiniPax claimed that EarthForce supported the decision. Perhaps he could use the Advisory Council to override EarthDome.

The transport tube finally arrived and the door opened. Sheridan stepped in, nearly crashing into a Minbari woman. Sheridan grinned widely with delighted surprise.

Delenn smirked. "I believe it's one of your thinkers who said... 'Wherever you are, there you are.' That thinker most likely had a Minbari soul."

Sheridan laughed as the transport tube began moving.

Delenn peered at Sheridan closely. "John...is there something wrong?"

"You, perhaps," Sheridan said. He laughed at Delenn's expression of crestfallen surprise. "No, I'm kidding."

"Ah. That's good. I'm relieved that I have not turned into a motor butt."

Sheridan was startled. He smiled at Delenn. He was feeling much better already thanks to the Minbari ambassador. He almost couldn't believe she remembered the conversation they had in the garden after Lyta exposed Talia.

"But really, Delenn, there _is_ something wrong. You see...Earth wants me to put the people on the _Hakudo Maru_ under arrest."

Delenn looked puzzled, but she had a suspicion rising within herself. "I...do not quite understand."

"I don't either," admitted Sheridan. "They claim that the charge was piracy, transport of contrabands, resisting arrest, damaging EarthForce property, aiding and abetting the escape of a prisoner, and murder." He shook his head disbelievingly.

Delenn began to bite her lower lip. "Just...the _Hakudo Maru_?"

Sheridan frowned. "Yes.... Delenn...what's going on?"

Delenn was already feeling a little guilty, but she shouldn't be feeling guilt. It was right. It has to be right if they wanted it. "John.... The Vorlons don't like the Newcomers. Ambassador Kosh wants them to go back to their universe." Delenn took a deep breath as Sheridan stared in astonishment. "Perhaps...this...call from Earth will encourage the Newcomers to...depart."

If Sheridan was astonished before, he exploded now. "WHAT?! Delenn!! What the hell are you thinking?? They haven't done anything wrong! You can't possibly agree with MiniPax! Hell, we owe them for helping to fix Talia!"

Delenn sorrowfully looked at Sheridan. "John.... The Vorlons think they don't belong here—"

"Of course they don't! Why else are we calling them the Newcomers??"

"John." Delenn was now looking at Sheridan sternly. He had to listen. He calmed down a little. "I do not agree with 'MiniPax.' When the Vorlons speak, we must listen. Where the Vorlons direct, we must pay attention. When Kosh says they must go, then the Vorlons must have very good reasons for them to leave. Perhaps...this 'arrest' is what the universe needs to have them leave. Surely, they would leave when they find this space less than...welcome."

"Delenn...?" Sheridan was shocked. "Are you kidding me? They created the cure for Drafa! They fixed Talia! If anything, they have been extremely generous! They even went out of their way to save a transport full of dying Markab from a Centauri 'quarantine action'! No! In my book, they're a hell lot more than welcome to stay!"

"John, the coming war depends on this. The Vorlons—"

"Fuck the Vorlons! Screw their encounter-suited butts!"

Delenn gasped. Such disrespect!

Mercifully, the transport tube arrived at its destination before this argument could get any worse. The door opened to reveal a few people staring nervously at the two of them. It was soon obvious they heard muffled shouts from within the transport tube.

What a time to be caught in a quarrel with Delenn! He no longer cared about maintaining propriety around Delenn. Let them gossip! Captain Sheridan stormed out of the transport tubes. The people jumped out of his way then turned to stare back at Delenn. Delenn was able to hold her emotions out of her face, freezing it, as the door slid shut. Once shut out from public view, she allowed the emotions to come out.

xxxxxxxx

Spock pressed the doorchime and waited. He was holding a compadd and a data crystal. He knew that a human would look at them to make sure all was in order, but Spock didn't need to do that. It was enough that he knew what was in them.

"_Please identify._"

"This is Captain Spock of the Federation starship _Enterprise_."

The door immediately opened. A small slight Brakiri man stood there, looking surprised and eager.

"Ambassador Lethke zum Bartrado?"

The Brakiri bowed and moved to let Spock into his quarters. "Just Lethke, Captain Spock. Just Lethke. Please come in. Do come in."

Spock raised an eyebrow. This being's attitude was very oily, slick. It made him think of the Vulcan Diplomatic Corps' intelligence reports in the Bajoran Sector. His father told him about them. Cardassian traders and scouts spoke of an extremely greedy plutocratic species far beyond Federation space. Spock couldn't recall the name of that species. It did not matter now. He stepped into the Brakiri ambassador's quarters and took a seat.

"Captain, I'm really glad that you have come to the Brakiri Syndicate. Tell me, Spock...I can call you Spock? Tell me.... Is it true you came from another universe? It's true that Earth exists in that universe?"

Spock inclined his head. "Indeed it is."

Lethke's eyes lit up. "And Brakir?"

"I am sorry to say that I have no knowledge of a planet called Brakir or of your species in my universe."

Lethke looked a little disappointed. "Well, I guess I can tell our governing council, the Krona, that there's no possibility of an alliance with our counterpart.... Is there?" The beady Brakiri eyes gleamed with hope.

Spock raised an eyebrow once more. "Where there is sentience, there is always the possibility of an alliance."

"Splendid! Splendid!" Lethke glanced down at the data crystal resting in Spock's hand. It was obvious that he wanted to know what was in it, but he must follow the politeness of business.

Spock didn't want to waste any more time. He handed Lethke the data crystal. The Brakiri ambassador delicately took it and inserted it into a data port on a computer console. Lethke's face was soon lit by the computer screen's light. His lips drew into a wide ecstatic smile. Greed played in his eyes. "Spock.... You and your people have the eternal gratitude of the Krona!"

Spock waited as Lethke greedily stared at his computer screen. Lethke finally remembered. He took out another data crystal, inserted it into his computer, typed a bit, then took the crystal out once more. Turning to Spock, he gave the crystal to the Vulcan. "Here's your reward. I've increased it to express the Brakiri people's gratitude. Enjoy the 12 trillion credits. It was a wonderful pleasure doing business with you." Lethke's toothy grin made Spock finally remember. _Ferengi_.

xxxxxxxx

Sheridan banged his gavel on the Council table, calling for order. The ambassadors, who had been milling around, gossiping, were finally quieting and sitting down. Only one chair was empty. The seat for the Narn ambassador. Sheridan caught Delenn's eyes. He stiffened, squashing the emotions down inside himself, ignoring the slight pain in the area of his heart. Business comes first. He began to speak.

"The first business of the day for the special session of the Babylon 5 Advisory Council and the League of Non-Aligned Worlds is—" Sheridan stopped as someone came into the Council Chamber. Everyone turned to look at the entrance. Ambassador Kosh was entering the Chamber. Most of the ambassadors were abuzz. This Council meeting had to be important if Kosh was there.

"Order! Order!" Sheridan banged the gavel once more. "Now.... It appears that more than one Power has an interest in the extra-universal ships. The Earth Alliance wants to seize the _Hakudo Maru_ and put its people on trial for crimes I will not repeat here." The Earth captain glanced at Ambassador Delenn, then at Kosh. "The Minbari Federation has expressed an interest in both the _Hakudo Maru_ and the _Enterprise_—" He stopped once again at yet another interruption.

Ambassador Londo Mollari stood up. "The Centauri Republic requests the rights to the _Enterprise_. That ship has committed crimes against the Republic's Royal Navy, crimes I believe to be similar to what Earth claims for the _Hakudo Maru_." Londo bowed and sat back down.

Sheridan shook his head. He never liked surprises of this nature. It didn't feel right not to have the Newcomers in this chamber. They wouldn't be able to defend themselves. But he had secretly and generously allowed the Abbai ambassador Kalika to bug the chamber for them. It was risky, but it would give them a chance to flee if things go wrong. If they decide to turn on the space station...well, they knew that the defense grid was on the watchful alert.

xxxxxxxx

"Déjà vu," Dr. McCoy grumbled as he watched the Centauri ambassador sit down in the main viewscreen. "I knew that would bite us in the ass sooner or later."

Spock looked at McCoy over Kirk's head. "Doctor, we cannot change the actions of the past. It cannot be helped."

"It cannot be helped?!" McCoy spluttered. "That was people's lives you are talking about!" He looked down at Kirk for help. "My God, Jim. We've butchered two Centauri warships and he's talking about help!"

Kirk raised a hand to halt McCoy's words. "Bones. He's right. It cannot be helped. Right now, we can use all the help we could get here." The captain gestured at the viewscreen where Captain Sheridan was speaking.

"Make that _three_ Powers who have expressed interest in the extra-universals," Sheridan was saying. Distaste made new lines in the Earth captain's face. "Clearly, no one can take one or both ships and their people. We must put it to a vote. Is there anyone who would like to say a word before we vote?"

The various ambassadors began to call for attention.

McCoy was shaking his head. "If this is diplomacy.... It's unnatural. We have a long night ahead."

**Starbase 10**

Commodore Basil Quinteros watched as a squadron of patrol fighters disappeared into the open gates of the starbase drydock hangar. A commander came up to his side at the window.

"What is it, Commander?"

"We're not sure.... We are reading ionized neutron radiation."

Quinteros turned to face the commander, frowning. "Where is it?"

The commander shrugged helplessly. "It seems to be coming from us."

The commodore pulled his head backward on his neck, still frowning. As far as he knew, the science labs on the starbase or any of the docked starships were not scheduled to do any experiment with ionized neutrons today. "It's not from the power core?" The commander shook his head in negation. Commodore Quinteros was about to order a patrol ship to go out and direct its sensors at the starbase when a lieutenant spoke loudly for all to hear.

"Sir, long-range sensors are reading two ships approaching. They're approaching at high warp."

Alerted, the commodore went quickly to the sensor station, expecting the worst. "Where are they coming from?"

The lieutenant peered at the sensor readings a little more to be sure. "The trajectory lies along a line that includes Denobula Triaxa, Qualor and Tarod."

Could it be the raiders that Starfleet Command wanted stopped? Perhaps they've failed at the Eohippus System. "Yellow Alert. Control Tower, order all ships to dock in the base or clear out of the area. Recommend they go to Cheron or Barradas. If any of them protest, tractor them in the drydock." Quinteros nodded curtly in satisfaction as the orders were carried out. They couldn't be too careful these days.

He looked at the sensor officer once more. The lieutenant was still tinkering with the sensor controls. The lieutenant looked up from his console. "Sir, it's the _Excelsior_. The other is a Klingon heavy cruiser right behind them."

Basil Quinteros was relieved. It wasn't the raiders after all. Still...why were they in such a tearing hurry to reach the starbase? Why couldn't they communicate over subspace? Why wasn't Starfleet notified or the starbase notified by Starfleet? Unless they're afraid someone might eavesdrop. Quinteros glanced out the windows in the direction of the Romulan Neutral Zone. "Are we clear of ship traffic?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hail the _Excelsior_."

The main viewscreen crackled to life. The subspace snow soon cleared to show the bridge of the approaching starship. Quinteros could see that a few computer consoles were dark, hinting at damages.

"Captain Sulu, glad to see you're still up and kicking."

Sulu chuckled mirthlessly. "Basil.... I'm glad too. Do you remember our lessons in Starfleet Academy?"

Quinteros frowned for a moment. He was right. They were afraid of someone eavesdropping. "Yes...?"

Sulu narrowed his eyes at Quinteros. "Interesting how the Xindi came to Earth, wasn't it?"

Dawning understanding paled the commodore's face. "Yes it was, Captain. I'd like to review our lessons in person."

"Of course, Commodore." The link cut off, returning the main viewscreen to the view of the stars.

Commodore Quinteros went into action. "Shields up. Focus the sensors on subspace around the starbase." He sat down to wait.

**USS _Excelsior_**

Akaar was tense. He had been serving as the _Excelsior_'s new chief of security and already the starship was deep in combat duty. He knew he should have been made of sterner stuff. Perhaps he should make an appointment with Rukaiya. Providing they survived this, of course.... He returned his full attention to the readings on the Tactical console.

Captain Sulu gazed at the warp core column, watching the swirl of matter and antimatter flowing through the column into the intermix chamber. The almost psychedelic glow made the white radiation suits of the engineering staff brighter. "How are repairs?"

Lieutenant Commander Devon Gabler pursed his lips. "After what the aliens did to us? Partial damage to the main computer core, forcing us to recalibrate the intermix regulators, burning out one of the aft shield generators.... Not to mention the repair work we will have to do for Computer Lab 6 from what they did to the console there to get the starbase's coordinates, and—"

Sulu smiled and halted the Chief Engineer's words with a gesture. "We will arrive at Starbase 10 soon."

"I know. First we will get the computer in the right working order—"

Sulu shook his head. "Fix the shields first."

Gabler sighed. "Captain, whatever the aliens hit us with, it fried circuits I thought were unfryable." He shook his head in wonder. "If only the Starfleet Corps of Engineers could take the isolinear chip technology beyond the drawing board. I'm not a hero, Captain Sulu. Not like my ancestor."

Chuckling, Sulu said, "Travis Mayweather was an _Enterprise_ hero. It's in your blood. Hey, you managed to get on Kirk's _Enterprise_, which is nothing to sneeze at."

The ship intercom beeped for attention. "_Bridge to Captain Sulu._"

Crossing over to a wall intercom, the captain pressed a button. "Sulu here."

"_We're arriving at Starbase 10. And sir...they're under attack._"

xxxxxxxx

Commodore Basil Quinteros was startled when the alarm klaxons rang out. He had been expecting it, but he was still startled. As the energy portals opened to admit those golden-brown bioships, he had ordered the fighter bays to empty themselves and all Starfleet vessels capable of combat to come out of the drydock and help defend the starbase. This starbase was designed to resist an entire armada. He was going be damned if he would allow his base to fall to some...some...alien pirates!

And the damndest thing was...the aliens were committing only half their fleet to fighting the starbase and its defending craft, while the other half seem to be searching for something.

"Sir!" shouted a lieutenant. "_Excelsior_ and _Ki'tang_ coming in fast and hard!"

Finally! Perhaps they could persuade the damned raiders to leave the area. "Visual!"

The Federation starship and the Klingon bird-of-prey snapped out of warp right on top of the raiders, firing all weapons, strafing as many bioships as possible. A few of the alien bioships appeared startled. Quinteros smiled. Not a bad adaption of the Cardiac Surprise maneuver.

"All right, people, throw in all the torpedoes and phasers we have at them!"

xxxxxxxx

Captain Sulu whipped back and forth in his command chair, held in by the chair arms hugging his abdomen. Once more, he wondered if this was not much better than being thrown to the deck. So far the repaired and recalibrated shields were holding, but they were taking damages. He could catch glimpses of the dogfights between the bioships and the Federation fighters and what few starships that the starbase had when the attack began. Once in a while, the Klingon K'Vort-class bird-of-prey swept past the main viewscreen, proving their warrior prowess.

"Captain," call out Ensign Tuvok. "The hostiles are emitting an unknown type of energy into a point in space."

The main viewscreen showed the spine-vessel emitting beams from its glowing blue parts. The beams triangulated at a point in space. Oddly, space itself seemed to be bending, as if someone pinched a point of a rubber sheet and pulled it back. Suddenly, the other bioships halted their combat action and rushed to gather around the spine-vessel.

Sulu was puzzled, but the fact that the spine-vessel was facing the formidable starbase in doing this was troubling. "What are they doing?"

Lieutenant Akaar looked over his shoulder from the Tactical console. "Unknown. It could be a weapon."

The squeezing point began to appear to be glowing. Tuvok helpfully said, "An unknown type of emission is emanating from the terminus of the spine-vessel's beams. The emission has quantum characteristics."

Akaar was horrified. "A super weapon...?"

Sulu was determined to stop the aliens, the Hur'q as the Klingons called them. He didn't care if the Klingons sang about this in the Paris Opera House, only that they help out. "Signal the _Ki'tang_. We're going in to stop them. Ask them to follow. Mr. Lojur, ahead full!"

xxxxxxx

Commander R'Tahl Jurod was watching the battle play itself out from under the mushroom top of the Federation starbase, cloaked and ironically protected by the starbase's formidable shields. The Romulan commander had been concerned about the cloak's neutron radiation, but so far, the starbase hadn't detected it. He gazed at the bioships' impressive performance. Perhaps the Star Empire could have an alliance with the aliens.

Sub-Commander Veron saluted Jurod and reported. "Commander, the alien vessels appear to be activating something."

"_Something_?"

"Yes, sir. It seems to be directed at the Federation base."

"Focus visual on that," ordered Jurod. He slowly dropped his chin at the sight in dawning horror. Memories roiled within himself, stoked by the sight.

_He was commanding a bird-of-prey that time, several years before getting this warbird. He was fighting a ship of the Taurhai Unity that struck deep into the Star Empire from the frontier opposite the Outmarshes that the Federation quaintly calls the Romulan Neutral Zone. He was winning the battle against the intruder...until the Taurhai unleashed a weapon—an isolytic subspace weapon. The weapon tore a rent in the fabric of subspace. Instead of striking his ship, the tear was attracted to the power sources of the nearby planet, Algeron III. As he and his crew watched in numbing horror, the subspace tear sliced through Algeron III. It happened too quickly for the Romulans to do anything about it. The destruction of the planet was powerful enough to seal the subspace tear and crystallized many of the resulting planetary fragments, turning them into giant gems orbiting the Algeron sun in the blackness of space. The effect, now called the Algeron Effect, was magnificent, but the gem-like fragments marked the graves of millions of Romulans._

Naturally, the Taurhai ship bore what vengeance Jurod could inflict at the time. Then when the Imperial Senate requested that the Klingons help in crushing the Taurhai Unity, the barbarians refused, preferring to focus their hostility on the Federation. As a result, their short-lived alliance shattered like Algeron III.

Jurod snapped back to the present. "A metaweapon...." The aliens must not unleash it. The Federation must not have a chance to get their hands on that weapon. He sprang into action.

"Sub-Lieutenant Khel'Vor! Prepare a full volley of plasma torpedoes." Jurod leaned forward in his command chair. The _Khiem'Ra_ would reveal the might of the Star Empire to the new aliens. "Forward! Move us to within disruptor range. Once within range, decloak, raise shields and fire torpedoes and disruptors at the alien capital ship!"

The starbase's shields were designed to keep things out, not in. So the warbird was able to slip through the shields, although the passage caused a surge of ionized neutron radiation in the starbase's automated sensors. The Federationers and Klingons were startled to find a Romulan R'derex-class warbird decloaking in their midst, revealing its green-gray hull, the bright blue of its warp-nacelles flaring with power. They were further surprised when the scarlet beak tapering under the golden symbol of the Romulan Star Empire aimed at the spine-vessel and opened fire at the Hur'q.

Suddenly, for everyone within range, the universe appeared to dim, causing those on the _Excelsior_, the _Ki'tang_, and the Romulan R'derex-class warbird _Khiem'Ra_ to be confused. Just as many of them were wondering if they were about to sneeze, the Kam'Jahtae fleet, the starship, the bird-of-prey and the warbird flickered out of existence. To Starbase 10 and its defenders, they were all gone. Vanished.

* * *

_Miranda Jones was borrowed from the TOS episode, _Is There In Truth No Beauty?_ and was played by Diana Muldaur who also played Dr. Pulaski in TNG. The Capellan security chief Leonard James Akaar was seen as a baby in the TOS episode _Friday's Child_ and should look like a younger version of his father the murdered High Teer of Capella IV._

_The Romulan R'derex-class cruiser/warbird was borrowed from the PC game ST: Birth of the Federation. Since the cruiser was equated with the Miranda-class starship for the Federation in the game, I will assume that the Romulans had that type of cruiser in the Movie Era. A bulkier precursor to the Valdore-class we've seen in _ST: Nemesis_, if you will._

_In case you do not recognize my description of the small Kam'Jahtae ships, it is how I would describe Gomtuu seen in the TNG episode _Tin Man_. The true origin of Gomtuu AKA Tin-Man was never revealed or satisfactorily explained. I theorize that Gomtuu belonged to the Hur'q that attacked and pillaged Qo'noS in the 14th century._


	12. Unnatural Diplomacy Part 2

_To all reviewers, thanks for the comments and feedbacks. Questions and feedbacks are still strongly encouraged._

* * *

Lord-General Marrago gazed out the windows of his bridge. He could see the fleet from his vantage point. Twelve Primuses and twenty-one Vorchans were gathered while countless Sentri fighters flitted about on their patrols. A jumppoint opened and three more Vorchans joined the armada.

Marrago shook his head in wonder. So many. An entire fleet. It was overkill. They had conquered Narn with a much smaller fleet. But then, the Royal Admiralty wanted its mission speedily accomplished. In a way, he regretted the quick end of the War of Retribution. The war against the Narn had ended so quickly that the momentum of the Centauri war machine still had strength to spill over to neighboring star systems. A particularly bright star drew his eyes. The binary star system that Earthers called Zeta Reticuli a little over two light-years away. If the god of navies, Kotan, and the god of soldiers, Gon, were still with him, one of the twin stars would be Centauri. Automatically, he sent up a prayer to the goddess of luck, Ilaros.

At least, his wife, Lady Drusella, and his adopted daughter, Lyndisty, could live without fear of enemies in the sky. As long as Lord Refa didn't push his war plans through the Centaurum, that is. The plans called for more than twenty fronts in the expansion of the Republic.

Militarily speaking, it wasn't logical to bog down the Great Republic in that fashion. Marrago hoped that Grand Fleet Admiral Dromo and Royal Guardsman Elite Tavastani could use their influences at the Royal Court and the Centaurum to prevent that. Marrago glanced at the large bead in his hand. The light made the black oil-like surface of the bead gleam and it felt too much like smooth skin for his comfort. That odd human had given it to him saying that allies, "associates," of the Centauri would come if the lord-general was in desperate need for help. Any new allies Marrago would find would be left alone by these associates. He wouldn't have accepted the bead if not for the fact that Lord Refa vouched for the human. Had these "associates" something to do with the surprising ease of the War of Retribution against the Narn? He'd heard troubling rumors....

"Lord-General?"

Marrago turned to look at the source of the voice. It was Lord Admiral Jarissi. "Lord-General, we are detecting strange energy distortions near the armada."

Marrago frowned. The fleet was supposed to gather in secret before jumping the short distance to the Vree colony of Photikar. Has the Vree discovered them? "Let's see it."

Jarissi nodded at an officer in the bridge. The officer activated the viewer.

All they could see was few of the stars waving about as if they were part of an aurora borealis. Definitely not a jumppoint forming.

Suddenly, they could see tiny pinpricks of...somethings replacing the distortion. The pinpricks expanded until they could see that they were ships. They didn't get bigger or closer, but simply appearing, unsqueezing themselves. Once the unsqueezing was finished, the Centauri armada found itself not the only fleet in the starry neighborhood.

Marrago could see that three of the alien ships were different from each other and from the rest of the alien fleet. Glowing points of light shot out of the three alien ships at the mile-tall alien vessel. Some of the lights were red, while those from the ship with the red beak and green body were golden-orange. Energy beams accompanied the pulsing lights. The barrage of the alien weapons impacted the mile-tall vessel. Marrago was impressed at the power of the barrage as the spine-vessel soon began to fold, crumpling in a way that made the Lord-General think of fire wounding a Centauri's skin. It crumpled until it finally broke in two, its blue and green lights fading in the spine-vessel's death throes.

Marrago gawked as star-like blue-white dust flowed from the energy traces on several of the golden-brown alien ships to hit the other three vessels. An energy bubble appeared to glow around each of the three vessels. _Force shields_. So the briefs from the Royal Admiralty were true. The Abbai _are_ selling or sharing their shield tech.

Come to think of it, one of the three vessels fits the general description of the vessel reported near Quadrant 27 and in Babylon 5 space. It wouldn't hurt to make a new alliance and get that coveted shield technology.

He gawked again as the three alien vessels attained impossible speed and maneuverability to evade the alien fleet. Only fighters could be that good, and these ships were around the size of Drazi sunhawks. It was time for alliances, indeed.

"Lieutenant, hail the aliens."

"Which one, Lord-General?"

"All of them. The first one to answer will have our pleasure."

Marrago waited for a few seconds before the lieutenant finally signaled that someone answered the hail. He squared his shoulders before facing the vidscreen, wiping nonexistent dust off of his elaborate uniform. "This is Lord-General Marrago on the Centauri Royal Ship _Thalis_. To whom do I have the honor of speaking?"

The vidscreen cleared to show an alien that appeared to be a cross between insectoid and reptilian. Most of the sixteen Centauri in the bridge crew hissed in disgust at the sight. Most, except for Marrago and Jarissi. The general and the admiral stared back at the alien, shocked with recognition.

The faceted ruby eyes glittered in the green light. "_The Kam'Jahtae remember you._" The link was quickly cut off.

Eyes widening, Jarissi and Marrago looked at each other. A commander leaned over a console towards the two Centauri officers. "What was that? You seem to recognize the alien."

Marrago nodded numbly. Finally. After all these centuries, they've found them. "Yes, Commander Altan. This is something we have been looking for, and afraid of. We all know them, but only the highest officers and officials in the Republic know their appearance."

Commander Altan frowned, puzzled. "We know them? This is the first time we've seen their ships or face."

Lord Admiral Jarissi leaned forward, putting his nose very close to that of Altan. "Think, my man. When the First Emperor founded the Republic, what did he subdue?"

Altan widened his eyes in realization. "The Xon and..."

Jarissi nodded grimly. "...and the Shoggren." Over a thousand and seven hundred years ago in Earth's 6th century, the First Emperor was rebuilding the world, bringing it out of the ashes of the Xon Wars, founding Imperial City with the help of three technomages, Centauri Prime knew war with another alien race again. The Shoggren invaded the homeworld with only very few ships, but Marrago knew from the sealed records that without the help of those technomages, the advanced Shoggren would have conquered Centauri Prime. The invaders left. Then in Earth's fourteenth century, the Centauri discovered Shoggren wreckage in the mountains of Xonos. Within a century, the Centauri went from an industrial society to a civilization capable of founding its first out-system colony at Immolan V in the Earth year 1438.

Ever since, xenophobic Centauri ships searched for any sign of the feared Shoggren, but all they found were primitive worlds and isolated empires, most of which were conquerable. Indeed, one of the motivations for the first Centauri imperial expansion was to prepare a base of power against the Shoggren. Never again would aliens hold dominion over the Centauri just as the Xon did and the Shoggren tried to do. Out of traditional habit and inertia, the Royal Admiralty instructed its highest officers to be on the lookout for the Shoggren.

And they finally found them!

Marrago ran to punch a button in the communications console. "This is General Marrago. All ships, engage the Shoggren fleet! Repeat, engage the Shoggren fleet! _Demola_, _Saiha_, attack them in the center! _Arcati_, _Yaria_, lead the Vorchans in a flanking attack! _Ferono Des_, launch the Jaki Squadron to engage the smaller Shoggren ships! Lieutenant, keep sending the friendship hails to the non-Shoggren ships."

xxxxxxxxx

Most of the Centauri warships maneuvered themselves to face the Hur'q. Missiles were already making their ways from the Vorchans and Primuses to the bioships, closing the gap between the two fleets. Closely following were Sentri fighters. The Vorchans were now dividing themselves into two groups, each group accelerating into a flanking maneuver away from the Primus group. The slower Primuses arranged themselves into an arrow, preparing to stab into the Hur'q fleet, and waited for the missiles to make their impacts. The large Octurion-class CRS _Thalis_ held back to form the base of the Primus arrowhead.

The gap between the fleets was still closing when the first of the Centauri missiles impacted on the bioships. The first missiles detonated against the Hur'q shields, weakening them enough for other missiles to break through and explode against the bioships themselves.

xxxxxxxxx

"Where did they come from?!" Lieutenant Angelo Tiffe shouted, thoroughly frightened but controlled enough to keep manipulating data in the navigation console. "And where's the starbase?!"

Captain Hikaru Sulu peered at the purple-gold warships approaching from the distance. The glow of the fires of missiles made pinpricks in the main viewscreen. The missiles were still too far away to spot. They were definitely not Romulan. "I don't know, Lieutenant. That fleet seems to have waited for us. Focus on the bioships for now, Mr. Tiffe."

Lieutenant Akaar spared a second to glance over his shoulder at the main viewscreen before returning to the tactical console. They still had a battle to fight. "Captain, the unknowns are engaging the Hur'q. Sir, the unknowns are aiming some type of tachyon beams at us."

"Oh no," groaned Lieutenant Commander Kruton Lojur as the starship shook from a weapon impact on the shields. The Alpha-Centaurian didn't expect to die in such an impossible situation. Sweat was popping on his forehead as he manipulated the helms, keeping the starship evading other ships and weapons. "Not more hostiles!"

Ensign Tuvok calmly called out, "The tachyon beams are not weapons. Sensors are detecting repeating codes within the beams. It could be their version of communication technology." Turning to face Lieutenant Commander Janice Rand across the bridge, he continued. "Ms. Rand, I am transferring the sensor readings to your station." Janice nodded and threw herself into the task of figuring out the tachyon communication technology.

Akaar shouted, "Sir! The Romulans!"

xxxxxxxxx

"Fvadt!" Commander R'Tahl Jurod cursed once more as the _Khiem'Ra_ shook under weapons fire. It wasn't a metaweapon after all. Instead, it pulled all of them into another space. Now they had another entire fleet to watch out for. Fortunately, the huge alien armada was attacking the alien biofleet. The Romulans could now afford to watch the two fleets pummel each other. And Jurod needed time to decide what to do about their situation.

He angrily looked at the sub-commander. "Veron! When we are able, cloak!"

The R'derex-class warbird rose up, spiraling on its axis and accelerated. Tiny blue-white Hur'q stars rained upon its shields, causing it to glow faintly as it evaded its way past the swirling bioships. Once out of the thick of battle, the _Khiem'Ra_ shimmered and merged itself with the night as it fled the battle.

xxxxxxxxx

General Moghar roared in anger. "Romulan cowards! The pieces of _baktag_ really have no honor!" In blind fury, he kicked at the body of Commander Narg. The general was surprised to hear a grunt from Narg. He wasn't dead after all! More gently, Moghar kicked at Narg until the commander was fully awake.

Narg stood up groggily, wiping the blood from his face. He looked suitably feral with the blood smears and trails on his face in the reddened darkness of the bridge.

Moghar grinned. Clasping the commander's shoulder tightly, he said, "Narg! You've stayed to complete your duties before going to Sto-vo-kor!" The general laughed. "Attend to them!"

xxxxxxxxx

The cloud of missiles spent itself on the bioships, lighting up the night with small explosions. The Sentri fighters, spearheaded by the famed Jaki Squadron which consisted of the newer Rutarian-class strike fighters, soon penetrated the Hur'q fleet, strafing the smaller bioships. Particle energy bolts were absorbed by the bioships' weak shields and strong layered bioarmors, serving only to distract the bioships with painful stings. For the bioships and their pilot-commanders, the feeling was akin to traveling very fast unprotected during a light rainfall.

Soon, the Centauri warships got within the range of their weapons. The light rainfall became a thunderstorm.

Powerful lasers, particle beams and ion bolts worked with disruptors, phasers and torpedoes against the Hur'q, the Centauri finding unspoken allies in the Klingons and Federationers. The dance of allies became a dance with Death as lives were snuffed out on all sides of the battle. Though more Centauri died than Hur'q, Klingons and Federationers, the numerically superior Centauri advance was beginning to break into the Hur'q lines. Severely outnumbered, the Hur'q reached a consensus with each other. A sacrifice was needed to placate the cosmic justice of the universe. Now they only had to wait to see if the universe would accept the sacrifice.

The small bioships sped toward each other and formed a tight sphere around the four larger triple-tailed bioships called Leviathans by the Hur'q. Their speed, faster than the _Excelsior_ could go without going to warp, shocked the Centauri once more. A bigger shock was yet to come. The jagged energy traces in the layered bioarmor of each bioship glowed a brilliant white until the sphere of bioships glowed like a tiny sun whose light would not reach the Vree planets of Zeta Reticuli for two years, causing sensor and scanning systems on non-Hur'q ships to go off the charts.

The bioships began to spin as it formed a pulsing halo of blue-white energy. Spinning, the bioships disappeared in their own blinding light and the halo of energy was thrown off. The spherical shockwave quickly expands as if a star went nova within the Hur'q fleet and passed over the nearer ships of the Centauri armada, many of which, especially the fighters, instantly became millions of shards of metal and dust. The shockwave was too powerful for the destroyed ships to even have time to create fiery explosions.

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Lord-General Marrago stared in mounting horror at the onrushing transparent blue-white wall of the Shoggren shockwave weapon. It wasn't supposed to happen like this! They were supposed to be destroying Vree saucers, boarding Vree orbital stations and sending landers down to the planet Photikar by now. He glanced down at the large oil-like bead in his hand. Marrago closed his fist tightly over the bead, squeezing shut his eyes in terrified concentration, fully expecting to die, and thinking of his adopted daughter Lyndisty. _Help!_

xxxxxxxxx

Space around the roiling mass of ships and fighters shimmered and three oily black masses blocked the stars. Shrieks sounded in the minds of everyone on the ships, including the bioships. The psychic screams startled the small bioships enough to stop spinning and feeding power to the shockwave weapon which immediately weakened.

As soon as the shimmering stopped, streaks of white light glowed on the oily black skin of the three Shadows. These Shadows were on the opposite sides of the roiling battle from each other. The white striations quickly gave birth to balls of pulsing white light. The balls of white light pulsed asymmetrically and awkwardly as they flew into the wall of the expanding transparent sphere of the Hur'q shockwave weapon. The pulsing weapons spread themselves over the sphere, merging with the shockwave. The energy sphere slowed, wavered and faded until it was only capable of tumbling ships and blasting fragile fighters to bits. Shrieks once more stabbed into minds, announcing the verdict of the universe's cosmic justice.

Immediately after, a purple beam lanced out from one of the Shadows, asymmetrical blue hazes shimmering around the purple beam. It burned through milling Centauri fighters, vaporizing them, and passed between the small bioships until it contacted one of the Leviathans. The Leviathan crumpled, dying. As the purple beam began to move sideways to slice the large bioship, non-Hur'q objects and Hur'q bodies spilled out. The other three Leviathans panicked and turned away, splitting their triple-tails. They were just cargo ships for objects that the Hur'q plundered on their raids. Stardust filled the clean lines on their bioarmor and subspace energy crackled, caressing where the large bioships submerged into subspace, leaving their smaller, but better armed, brethren to the battle. Only the bioship _Gomtuu_ joined the Leviathans in their flight into subspace as armed escort for the cargo ships.

Another Shadow ship lashed out with its purple slicer, catching one of the fleeing Leviathans, severing its tapering tails. The subspace portal immediately closed at the loss of power, leaving the rear half of the large ship floating in space, objects and bodies spilling out of the open end. The front half was gone, lost in subspace itself.

xxxxxxxxx

Shock reigned in the bridges of all ships in the battle at the callousness and the firepower of these new arrivals. Marrago, frightened at the kind of allies that the Centauri actually had, sent up prayers to the navy god Kotan and to the Great Maker. Captain Sulu urged the science stations to get as complete a reading and recording as possible, gaping wide-eyed at the frighteningly high power and reach of the weapons, and the size of those black organic vessels. And those beam weapons were as thick as a shuttlecraft! General Moghar admired the ferocious efficiency of these dark aliens, but even the Klingons were nervous about them. Other minds watched and schemed from outside the battlefield. All ordered their ships to avoid these purple weapons and their sources. Soon, the Centauri, Klingons and Federationers held back to watch, firing only potshots at passing Hur'q.

xxxxxxxxx

A Shadow slowly moved forward, firing at a Hur'q bioship, quickly killing it. The Hur'q's weak shield technology wasn't even a consideration for the power of the Shadow weapon. Another Shadow caught a bioship before it could get too close and killed it. One Hur'q bioship, however, managed to get close enough to fire tiny stars at the black ship that murdered its sibling. The stars were absorbed and dissipated by the black oily bioarmor. The Shadow ship, hurt by the counter fire, lashed out, gutting the offending bioship. It fired again, grazing another bioship and accidentally hitting a Centauri Vorchan. The Vorchan was mercifully not destroyed and was burning, listing sideways. The _Excelsior_ rushed to the rescue of the wounded Vorchan. To the Centauri, it seemed the bright alien ship was doing nothing, being careful to avoid the Shadows and protect the wounded warship. Also, it seemed to them that lifesigns were quickly disappearing from inside the damaged parts of the listing Vorchan.

The second Shadow lazily moved as two more bioships rushed towards it. The Shadow fired three times, killing three more bioships. One of the two onrushing bioships sent tiny stars slamming into the second Shadow in a strafing run and maneuvered through the spines jutting from the body of the Shadow ship. It was soon destroyed by the first Shadow, however. That one maneuvered arrogantly to the left and downward, firing twice more, wounding more bioships, but not killing them. The three Shadow ships sedately gathered together as a group and waited for the rest of the Hur'q fleet to swarm them.

The maddened and confused Hur'q went back to their baser insectoid-reptilian instincts and swarmed the Shadows for their kill. The five surviving bioships rushed the three Shadows, their jagged energy traces glowing blinding white. Then a fourth Shadow shimmered into existence behind them, blocking their possible retreat. Purple beams lanced and crisscrossed in the slaughter. Soon, all of the bioships were either totally destroyed or floating dead in the cold mercy of space. The four Shadows moved off and shimmered out, leaving the Centauri, Klingons and Federationers stunned.

It was over. And the Shadows took only one minute, Earth time.

**Babylon 5**

"Must not let Centauri have ship!" The Drazi Ambassador Vizhak fumed. "Drazi at war with Centauri. Drazi not tolerate Centauri ships with shields!"

The Abbai ambassador stood up. "The Abbai Matriarchate agrees!" Kalika glared at Ambassador Mollari as the Pak'ma'Ra ambassador gestured agreement.

The Brakiri ambassador stood up as well. "The _Enterprise_ has been most generous to us. They have provided something we have been looking for so long and hard."

Sheridan raised his eyebrows in surprise. _Have they already sold their shield technology?_ "Ambassador Lethke, I'm curious. What did they give you?"

Lethke smiled and blushed. "When television and radio signals reached Brakir from Earth, they became popular and important for my people's society. Most shows are watched and studied on Brakir, in particular the vidshow, _Dallas_. We, unfortunately, missed one episode and Earth lost the recording for that episode. It was most fortunate that the _Enterprise_ had recordings from its own Earth. Now we finally know who killed J.R.!"

Sheridan screwed his face in confusion and frustration. He felt like shouting that he didn't care if the _Enterprise_ gave away _Debbie Does Dallas_ with pomp and fanfare, just that they vote right away. He reminded himself once again that he was the _diplomatic_ representative of the Earth Alliance. He gestured for another ambassador to speak.

Londo Mollari was bored, but he was determined to have his way. "The extra-universal ship _Enterprise_ savagely attacked two Centauri ships, murdering hundreds. Wouldn't the universe be safer if we took that dangerous ship and make it disappear?"

Delenn glanced at Kosh who appeared to be avidly watching the whole thing. Well, she didn't know if the Vorlon was watching _avidly_. The fact that Kosh stayed through the long hours told her something. The mere presence of the Newcomers' ships was causing disorder, discontent. Perhaps, for the sake of the Light, it would be better for them to leave. Though...she didn't exactly feel right about this. She didn't like that feeling. It was too similar to what she felt before the surrender at the Battle of the Line. She pulled out of her musings when the Markab ambassador stood up. It was the first time she'd seen Fashar in this chamber.

Fashar steadied himself before speaking. "The gods found many of my people wanting and sent the Dark Angel of Drafa. Realizing that the Dark Angel had come, my people quickly worked to purge themselves of sin. But the plague remained, and soon death was everywhere. Fathers abandoned their sick sons. Lawyers refused to come and make out wills for the dying. Priests were left to care for the sick, and temples were soon deserted, as they were stricken, too. Bodies were left in empty houses, and there was no one to give them a proper last ritual and burial. Even now, the great cities of Yersin and Kerson are villages among empty buildings and temples. As I think over these miseries, sorrow grows in me."

Fashar turned his eyes to the table of the Big Powers. "Shame on you for trying to take away our Saviors." He pointed at Londo. "The _Enterprise_ may have killed many of your people, but your people are attacking worlds, killing many more."

Londo tiredly raised an eyebrow. "You are concerned about the _Enterprise_. And the _Hakudo Maru_, yes?"

Fashar dropped his pointing finger wordlessly. He had defended the "Saviors" if only to repay a little bit of the debt that can never be repaid by Markab, nothing more. And to keep the dangerous Centauri from getting their sinful hands on the Newcomers' technology, of course. He didn't really care if the Earth Alliance took the other extra-universal ship.

"_Here we go," said Dr. McCoy._

"_Oh hush, Bones," hissed Kirk._

Ambassador Zilchah delicately stood up. "The Ventuki Conglomerate opposes the detainment of the _Hakudo Maru_ as well. The Vree used to have close relations with Earth. But...." The Vree ambassador tilted hir head sideways to peer at Captain Sheridan out of huge black eyes. Sheridan was a little uncomfortable. He knew that EarthGov hadn't been ideal lately. "But in light of our current relations, we must move that the League considers the _Enterprise_ and the _Hakudo Maru_ to be one and the same."

Sheridan looked around. No other ambassador seemed to want more discussion. "Let's vote then."

**USS _Excelsior_**

Janice Rand finally recalibrated communications to tachyons. "Captain, that fleet has been hailing us."

"Onscreen."

A large humanoid man came on the main viewscreen, sporting a uniform that Sulu thought was very reminiscent of the Austrian uniforms used in Earth's Napoleonic Wars. That haircrest...in addition to that elaborate uniform, it made him think of a peacock's raised tail. He remembered a story from India saying that peacocks were very vain about their breathtaking appearance, but when they look down at their ugly feet, they screamed in outrage, causing a thunderstorm. He hoped this one wouldn't look down and throw a stormy tantrum at the _Excelsior_. The humanoid alien widened his eyes at Sulu in surprise.

"_Earthers—? I am Lord General Marrago of the Royal Navy of the Centauri Republic. In the name of His Most Illuminated Majesty, Narleeth Cartagia Jarn, by Grace of the Great Maker, Emperor of Centauri Prime, Defender of the Republic, Voice of the Gods, The Empire Made Flesh, High Seat of House Kasto, we thank you for the assistance against the Shoggren._"

Sulu suppressed the almost automatic feeling of resentment at the insulting term 'Earthers.' What wordy titles this emperor had! "Sho—who?"

"_Shoggren. Those aliens we fought and defeated. Are you...amenable to an alliance with us?_"

"Ah. The Hur'q. You've helped us. We'll help you, of course. We'll hammer out the details later." Captain Sulu thought that an alliance with an obviously powerful star nation with an even more obviously powerful, albeit ominous, ally would help the _Excelsior_ cope with being in this quantum reality. The starship's sensors had confirmed what the Hur'q had done: sucked them into another universe. Apparently, Earth existed in this reality if this Marrago's reaction was any indication.

Marrago narrowed his eyes at Sulu. "_I'm curious. What did you do with the crew of the _Yaria"

"Oh, we beamed them over to Sickbay on my ship. As soon as Doctor Altos Viger gives them a clean bill of health, we'll transport them back to your ships."

Marrago raised eyebrows. Was this Earther talking about what he was thinking? Tesseract technology, possibly more efficient and flexible than the Vree dimensional slip technology! Suddenly he could see it. No more need for landers or breaching pods. No more destroying stations or ships, but adding them to the might of the Royal Navy. Most of all...getting the favor of the Emperor himself and gaining a position within the Royal Court. And getting Lord Refa out of the Centaurum for the Republic's sake. He made sure that his face wasn't showing the glee he was feeling. He bowed.

"_We thank you again. The other ships, they are your allies, yes?_"

Sulu reluctantly nodded. "Well, the Klingons are. The Romulans...are another story. They're the ship that fled before those...black ships helped us out. Who are those black ships?"

"_We don't know._"

Sulu raised his eyebrows. The still fresh memory of the slick black ships caused chills to climb his spine. "You...don't know?"

"_We really don't. We invite you to come to Centauri Prime. I'm sure the Royal Court would like to personally welcome and congratulate you._" Marrago smiled, revealing sharp teeth. "_Can we...talk with your ally?_"

Captain Sulu nodded at Janice who immediately began transmitting the codes for tachyon communications to the _Ki'tang_.

xxxxxxxxx

General Moghar slapped Narg's back hard, causing a wincing grunt from the commander. "A great battle to go down in song! It will equal the song of the Battle of HarOs!"

"I'm sure the court bards and the monks will be pleased." Narg gave a wry smile.

Scanner Kullor hissed for attention. "General, the Starfleeters has transmitted formulas for modifications for tachyon communications technology. I'm adjusting to their specifications now."

The general laughed, giddily buoyed by the victory against such vast odds. And those black ships! They were like the gods that the Klingons killed millennia ago. If the Klingons had such allies, they would be able to surpass their ancient teachers, the Old Kings of the Karsid Empire. Although.... Moghar frowned as an uncommon chill came up his spine at the memory of the shrieks from the black ships. It didn't feel right or honorable for anyone to attack anyone else with such strength and ease. The Klingon Empire had prided itself on its ability to conquer worlds, but it always made sure to make the conquest of primitive weaker worlds as difficult as possible to satisfy the war-lust of the conquerors.

Kullor called out from her station. "Modifications are complete. Answering Centauri hail."

Lord General Marrago came up on the commscreen below the main viewscreen. Marrago and the bridge crew of the _Thalis_ hissed in surprise and shock at the appearance of the feral-looking Klingons.

Gunner Kazj leaned over to Kullor. "Don't they look familiar?"

The female Klingon nodded, baring her fangs. She glanced at General Moghar. She could see that the general recognized the Centauri as well.

Marrago leaned forward closer to the screen, squinting, his mouth twisting in distaste. "_It would seem that today is full of ancient tales coming back to haunt us._"

Moghar growled. He turned to Kullor and curtly ordered her to scan the Centauri lifesigns. After a while, Kullor hissed through bare fangs and said, "Fek'lhri."

Moghar growled louder at Marrago, his instincts coming to the fore.

Marrago raised his nose, as if he smelled something extremely foul. "_We thought we've exterminated all of you, Xon. We will make sure of the Xon's extinction this time. There can be only one people for Centauri Prime!_"

xxxxxxxxx

Captain Sulu was receiving reports from Doctor Altos, nodding at each point made by the Bolian doctor. It intrigued Sulu that the Centauri had...reproductive tentacles that they called "tentesticles." He remembered how Captain Kirk had described the knee of an alien he fought at the dilithium mining prison on Rura Penthe. Lieutenant Akaar looked around from the master situation station. "Captain! The Centauri and the Klingons are arming weapons!"

"What?"

Ensign Tuvok said, "Confirmed. The _Ki'tang_ has raised shields and the Centauri one-man fighter craft are maneuvering towards the bird-of-prey."

Dr. Altos grimly shook his head. "Sounds like more casualties coming in. Madness. Klingons may be great warriors but they must know they can't handle an entire fleet of warships by themselves."

Captain Sulu grimly set his chin into his hand, looking determined. "We worked hard for the Khitomer Accords. We are allies. They won't handle the Centauri by themselves."

Dr. Altos threw his blue hands up into the air. "More madness! I might just as well transfer myself to a hospital ship! Do you really want to blow the ship apart in a futile gesture of...of...some insane human charity?!"

Sulu narrowed his eyes at the Bolian. "Then we'll blow the ship apart if we have to!"

Dr. Altos walked into the turbolift, muttering about madness as Sulu ordered the shields raised and the weapons rearmed.

xxxxxxxxx

A Klingon K'Vort-class bird-of-prey tore its way past a gauntlet of Centauri Primus battlecruisers, being chased hard by Vorchan warships and heckled by fighters. Lasers, particle beams and ion bolts licked at the rear shields of the Klingon warship, while debris from wounded and destroyed Centauri and Hur'q craft bounced off shields already damaged by the Hur'q.

"Aft shields buckling!" shouted Commander Narg in Battle Language as the _Ki'tang_ shook from Centauri weapons fire. Klingon weapon technology was much more effective than the Centauri's, but numbers can overcome technology. There were just too many Centauri warships to handle. Smoke clouded the bridge and two Klingons were lying dead on the deck.

General Moghar sternly ordered, "Auxiliary power to aft shields!"

The _Ki'tang_ shook again. Narg growled in frustration. "Aft shields gone!"

General Moghar's expression hardened. In spite of the honorable help from the _Excelsior_, this battle was hopeless. The Federation starship was in a similar situation, but in a better condition as it preferred cowardly evasive patterns weaving among the Centauri warships. The Starfleeters shot only at weapons and engines instead of trying to destroy enemy ships as the Klingons were trying to do. There were just too many in spite of the Hur'q. The Centauri still had eight Primuses and thirteen Vorchans, and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of fighters. In spite of efforts to strike at the head, the Centauri Octurion-class battlecruiser _Thalis_ was too well protected by the rest of the fleet and its own bristling weapons.

Commander Narg leaned close to Moghar's ear. "We can't win. We must withdraw."

Moghar's head snapped around at Narg, eyes afire. "Keep your place!" Turning back to the battle viewscreen as Commander Narg returned to the tactical station, Moghar had to privately admit that Narg was right. The general must show strength. Perhaps the human saying "Run and you'll live to fight another day" has merit.

All eyes were trained on General Moghar. While brave warriors, they didn't want to die so futilely without letting their brethren in the Empire know of their last days.

Moghar grunted. "New course. Two five zero...mark zero one five."

The helmsman turned around to the general, shocked. "But sir—!"

"_GhoS_!"

The helmsman turned back to his console and entered the coordinates and maneuvered the bird-of-prey out of the middle of the battle. Gunner Kazj was cursing as he hurried to fire off as many shots as possible. A Vorchan exploded satisfyingly in Kazj's gun sights.

General Moghar leaned forward in his command chair, watching as Centauri warships swept past, becoming fewer and fewer in the battle viewscreen. Commander Narg urgently reported, "The Fek'lhri are closing in! Shields red-lining!"

"Gunner, ready a volley. Helm, stand by to enter warp on my command...." Moghar wanted to allow time for Kazj to take out as many of the Centauri as possible. They would be back to finish the job.

"DaH!"

The _Ki'tang_ suddenly launched many photon torpedoes out of its rear, creating an explosive cloud of death as Centauri fighters and Vorchans ran into the red flaring torpedoes. The bird-of-prey stretched into the distance as it went to warp, leaving a flash of light which quickly faded.

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Captain Sulu hoped to see the Klingons sometimes soon. He wished them well on their journey. If they ever needed to talk with them, they knew where to find the Klingons. He also felt that since the Klingons has left, it was time for the _Excelsior_ to leave as well. But where? The Centauri mentioned the Earth Alliance. He wasn't sure if he wanted to announce himself to an Earth he didn't know. There was, however, one world that the Centauri didn't appear to know, but could still exist in this quantum reality.

"Mr. Tiffe, set a course for Vulcan. Warp 7."

"Aye, aye sir!"

The _Excelsior_, managing to evade its way to the edge of the battle, pirouetted on its axis and lowered its saucer downward. Shields flaring at Centauri energy weapons, the starship stretched into the distance, disappearing into the blooming warp light-flash.

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On a small ship hidden by advanced technology and magic, a man stared into the large crystal globe. So. The Circle has changed. And a most interesting change it was. The technologies of those extra-universal ships were nothing short of amazing. Especially their continuum distortion engine technology that allowed FTL travel in normal space. But he had a duty to his brethren in the order. He sent off recordings of the events that happened so quickly in this area of space to the Tower. Normally, the technomage would have sent the recordings to his mentor at his hiding place, but this deserved the attention of the One Above All.

His task done, the technomage thought his ship into hyperspace to follow that white-blue starship. Computations had shown where the starship would go. Nodding and thinking of his mentor Elric and his friends Isabelle and Tamyrlin, Galen knew that the Light needs all the help it could have against the Darkness.

xxxxxxxxx

Commander Jurod was satisfied. He now knew what to do. "Sub-Commander Veron, keep us out of their weapons range. Decloak and hail them."

**Babylon 5**

Captain Sheridan stared at the two extra-universal ships hanging in space outside of the space station. Most of the damages and scars they had when he first saw them were now gone. If Sheridan trained telescopic cameras on them, he knew he would be able to see space-suited people at their repair work on the ships' hull. So fragile, yet by all reports, so strong. So alone. He felt ashamed that EarthForce would resort to such tactics at Janos 7. He hoped that Doctor Franklin wouldn't find out the role that his father had in that incident. He sighed once more, earning a glance from Ivanova.

The Russian woman sidled closer to the captain's side. "Will you obey the orders?"

Sheridan grimly schooled his face so as not to betray any feeling that someone in C&C might catch. He threw his thoughts back to yesterday when they finally concluded the special session of the Council.

_Captain Sheridan glanced at Ambassador Kalika and gave a tiny nod. He almost gave into the temptation to look at Delenn, but he must maintain his distance from the Minbari ambassador. He finally broke the silence in the chamber. "We will begin the vote with the Centauri Republic. One vote for each ship. Yes for arrest and no for no arrest."_

_Londo Mollari covered his mouth with a fist as he coughed. "The Great Centauri Republic votes yes for the _Enterprise_, no for the _Hakudo Maru

"_The League of Non-Aligned Worlds?"_

_As the oldest race in the League, the Yolu ambassador was chosen to speak for the League. "No for both ships."_

_Sheridan took a deep breath. This was it. "The Earth Alliance votes yes for the _Hakudo Maru_. No for the _Enterprise_." Technically, he was supposed to vote yes for Captain Kirk's starship, but he had taken upon himself to stay strictly to the words of his orders. He will use that reasoning to argue down any protest from MiniPax and EarthForce. He turned to Delenn, suppressing the illusion of squeezing pain in his heart and keeping his face empty of feelings. "The Minbari Federation?"_

_Delenn glanced down at the Council Table. Her eyes studiously avoided Ambassador Kosh and John Sheridan. "The Minbari abstain on both counts."_

_Surprised murmurings filled the Council chamber before Sheridan was able to restore order with his gavel. Frowning at Delenn, he asked, "What's this? The Minbari Federation has expressed an interest in the extra-universal ships. I hope that the Minbari ambassador does not see the vote as a joke."_

_Delenn turned eyes to Sheridan, eyes that were frightened, pleading, sad and loving all at once. "I have consulted the Grey Council. They...." Her eyes flicked to Kosh and back to Sheridan so quickly that the Earth captain thought it was his imagination. "They said, 'The problems of others are not our concern.' I again say the Minbari abstain."_

_Sheridan raised his eyebrows, his first facial expression to Delenn since their argument in the transport tube. He turned away from her to the Vorlon ambassador. He had been amazed that Kosh had stayed the entire time. The meeting must be very important to the Vorlon Empire. Why?_

"_The Vorlon Empire?"_

_Ambassador Kosh turned its headpiece towards Delenn and slowly went back to Sheridan. Sounds like that of crystal wind-chimes softly tinkled from the translator on the ambassador's encounter suit. "Yes."_

_Sheridan peered at the Vorlon. He wasn't alone in peering at Kosh. "Ambassador, yes for which ship? The _Enterprise_ and the _Hakudo Maru

"_Yes."_

_Sheridan nodded. "OK. The Vorlon Empire votes yes for both ships. The tally now comes to...two yeses and two no's for each extra-universal ship. A tie." The captain turned to Delenn once more. All eyes were now on her._

"_Does the Minbari Federation wish to change its abstaining vote? It is now the deciding vote."_

_Delenn looked like she felt cornered. Her eyes reflected the fast thinking she was now forced to do. Coming to a decision, she looked like she was facing a tribunal. Sheridan frowned subtly. Why is this so damned important? He looked at Kosh, pursing his lips. That's why._

"_Since...the Grey Council has declared its neutrality in this matter, the best way to maintain a neutral stance without abstaining...." Delenn sighed as she glanced at Sheridan. Ever since the secret alliance between Delenn and Sheridan, the Minbari ambassador had always supported every vote made by the Earth representative. "The Minbari vote...."_

Captain Sheridan continued to stare out at the stars. "Screw the orders. Forget about them."

Ivanova raised eyebrows at Sheridan before turning her eyes back to the extra-universal ships. "You do know that Earth will want to know why its orders were not followed?"

"Yes. Let them come."

The Russian felt like another cup of coffee. "Oh boy."

xxxxxxxxx

Dr. McCoy released his feeling of tension by rearranging the medical vials in their racks yet again. It was therapeutic. Even though the _Enterprise_ and _Hakudo Maru_ were safe, thanks to the Minbari ambassador's flip-flop, who was to say that something worse won't come out of this incident?

Finishing the arrangement of the vials in their racks, McCoy went to his office and set to reading and analyzing the reports of the deaths on the _Hakudo Maru_. Something about the murder of Dr. Nashiin wasn't quite right. Dr. McCoy now had the time and freedom to study what was wrong with the Oran'taku woman's murder.

xxxxxxxxx

Delenn walked down a corridor toward her ambassadorial suite, deep in thought. A shadow came up to her, blocking the light from her eyes. Startled, she turned around.

It was Ambassador Kosh.

Delenn bit her lower lip. "Is there something wrong?"

"You, perhaps."

Delenn was startled again. That was exactly what John said in the transport tube. She had known that John was teasing, but coming from the Vorlon, it cut deeply into her pride. Kosh wasn't finished answering.

"We have sent for an inquisitor."

Delenn felt like cold water was splashed into the inside of her body. That has to be a human reaction. "An inquisitor? Why?"

Kosh tiled its headpiece to the side. Delenn had the feeling that Kosh was thinking that she should already know why.

"To be sure about you. You will submit to his authority."

Delenn stared at Kosh. Submit? She squared her shoulders, confident that she will pass this test. "How will I know who it is?"

Kosh inclined its head towards Delenn. "You will know.... _If_ you survive."


	13. Dancing of Dreams

_Lord Marix: This chapter answers your question about Vulcan's location._

_I used the warp calculator in the Star Trek Cartography website for warp-distance-time. Travel time in hyperspace is canon, stated clearly by JMS._

* * *

**Somewhere on the former Austro-German border, Earth**

The express maglev bullet train sped through the foothills of the Alpine Mountains. Normally, trains would slow down as it took the challenge of the craggy mountains, but in Earth's 23rd century, it was no longer necessary. Instead, it sped up until it was just a bit under the speed of sound. All of the birds, except a few who happened to be looking in the train's direction, didn't look up. Magnetically levitated over the tracks, the bullet train was silent, leaving only the sound of winds rushing past. It rushed through the city of Salzburg and approached Munich in its journey towards Geneva, the capital of Earth without stopping. Soon, the station at Geneva would receive the smell of spices from Istanbul, of coffee from Vienna. One of the passengers in the Istanbul-Geneva Express was Laurel Takashima, captain of the EarthForce ship _Brittany_ just finishing her short shore-leave before reporting to Earth Central in EarthDome for a debrief.

As various channels droned on, including an ISN report and an ad for PsiCorps in the seat-back vidscreens throughout the train, Laurel Takashima indulged herself into a meal on the train: kung pao chicken, spring rolls, fried bananas in rum and an undersized bottle of chardonnay. The ISN anchorwoman was reporting that rumors about Janos 7 were causing the Earth Senate to discuss opening an investigation into EarthForce's illicit activities. Ignoring the report, Laurel washed down the taste of chicken with the chardonnay. She glanced at the Turk sitting next to her. A beefy dark businessman with dark eyes, the kind of eyes that Laurel might call 'bedroom eyes,' and a very black mustache drooped over almost-full lips. He had introduced himself as Murad Remlik, claiming to have just finished a traditional oil wrestling competition near Istanbul. Laurel's EarthForce demeanor forced the Turk to leave her alone.

She thought that the Turk looked rather tempting, but she preferred to be left alone. The Turk reminded her too much of her Persian first officer, Reza Malin. Every twenty minutes or so, the Turk would look up from the _Universe Today_ newspaper and look around, stealing quick glances at Laurel's legs.

Laurel looked up as a young man with sandy blond hair made his way down the aisle, probably on his way to the bathroom. Judging by his college clothes, he was going home in Scandinavia, perhaps a college girlfriend in Stockholm. He looked rather relaxingly pleasant, a small smile permanently on his lips.

Laurel reached for the tiny bottle of chardonnay, wishing a little that she was bold enough to return the Turk's attentions. She wrote that wish off to the small buzz she was getting from the wine. The image of her hand about to grasp the neck of the bottle was the last thing she remembered clearly before smashing her head into the seat in front of her. She almost blacked out as her body almost crushed itself against that seat. Darkness fell as the lights winked out. She was dimly aware of screams of surprise, terror and shock. The food tray clattered to the bottom of the seat in front of her, surrendering plates and wineglass. Flying glass, silverware, porcelain, paper and the arm of the Turk next to Laurel struck her, staining and ruining an uniform just crisply pressed for the debrief in EarthDome.

Everything then instantly moved backwards sickeningly and Laurel slammed back into her seat. Food and small luggage piled atop Laurel who was now lying facedown on the floor of the train. She could feel a man and a woman under herself. Her eyes were wide open in frozen horror, but she couldn't see anything in the sudden darkness and the shock. She couldn't breathe as adrenaline rushed through her body. She fully expected to die. Within a fraction of a second, she resented the fact that she was not dying on a spaceship, but on a train on dear old Mother Earth.

Finally, emergency lights came on. A sharp pain in her side caused her to wince as the two bodies under her began stirring. A broken rib, at least. She slithered off the bodies and raised her head to look around the seats down the aisle. She could hear two women crying, see one man holding his shirt over a bloodied nose. The Turk pulled himself up from under Laurel to a sitting position on the floor. Blood glistened from a cut in one of his temples and Laurel picked up the newspaper and gave it to him to press on the bleeding cut. EarthForce training coming to the fore, she looked warily around the seat on the floor. Almost everyone still looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Wide eyes, flaring nostrils, numbing shock. Their dream that Earth was safe from such violence was shattered.

A woman began to scream out of control. The scream was suddenly muffled as if a hand tightly covered her mouth. Whether from someone else or the screaming woman, Laurel didn't know. The EarthForce captain twisted around to look the other direction down the aisle to see what the woman was screaming about. The blond Scandinavian man was lying on the floor, crumpled against the door at the end of the train car, neck twisted at right angles so that the head was upright, looking at Laurel. But the eyes were empty and the face had the inanimate look. Dead.

Suddenly, the dark seat-back vidscreens came back on, showing the image of a woman in a crisp business suit. "_Good evening. We apologize for the inconvenience. We have blown up the tracks in front of your train...._"

It was so absurd. A terrorist being so corporate polite that Laurel had to laugh nervously. She wasn't the only one in the train car to laugh nervously or bitterly out of the tension. The Turk, Mr. Remlik, glared at the vidscreens. The strange female terrorist continued. "_Again, we apologize for the inconvenience. We feel that Earth is ready to be aware of the existence of _Raven Nation_, a group dedicated to the purity of Earth and the glory of the Great Lord of the Dark...._"

**USS _Excelsior_**

It has been 19 days and 14 hours crossing the 55 light-years from where the Romulan Neutral Zone should be to Vulcan at warp 8. Captain Sulu leaned back into his command chair. Soon, in 30 minutes, he would find relief and answers at Vulcan. It was quickly apparent soon after the battle that the locals couldn't detect a ship at warp. They even tested that by going through what would be the Deneva System in the Federation. They detected Centauri ships, but there was no indication that the Centauri ever saw them.

Angelo Tiffe said, "Captain, entering the Vulcan System."

Sulu could see the three suns of the 40 Eridani System. Vulcan would be the second planet around the primary star, 40 Eridani A, an orange-red dwarf. Sulu hoped that the Vulcans had something like the Federation's 40 Eridani A Starfleet Construction Yards. The primary star was almost overwhelmed by the bright light of the nearby young white dwarf, 40 Eridani B, its nebular cocoon hiding the very dim third star which, as a flare star, regularly announced itself through the dust cloud. He glanced back to Janice Rand, a question on his face.

Janice said, "No subspace radio. Also no tachyon radio activity. I even checked for primitive radio signals and there's nothing."

Long-range sensors had indicated that the planets were all there. Planetary atmospheres were still the same. Surely, there's still a Vulcan here? "Drop to impulse. Keep scanning for any sign of civilization in the system."

Ensign Tuvok said, "Sir, sensors are reading a ring around the second planet."

Akaar frowned. "Vulcan doesn't have a ring."

"Precisely."

It was worrisome. Sulu peered closely at Tuvok. So far, the Vulcan didn't betray any feeling or opinion about this. "Can we see it at this distance?"

"Yes, sir. Putting it on screen at maximum magnification."

The main viewscreen cut from the view of the approaching third planet, the outermost, in the Vulcan System to the view of a copper-hued planet. It looked as Mars would with a much thicker atmosphere and before most of the terraforming effort of past centuries. A small ocean separated a continent from another in the day side. Indeed, they could see the glow and glitter of a ring around the planet.

"No moons."

Sulu looked at Tuvok again, this time puzzled. "Isn't Vulcan supposed to have no moon?"

Tuvok said, "Currently, our Vulcan does not have a moon, but millennia ago, it had several small iron-nickel moons. At an early stage of space flight in the First Age of Expansion, we mined them as Vulcan itself is poor in ferrous materials. Through the centuries, the moons were mined out. But we still remember them in ancient legends and songs." The Vulcan gestured at the ringed planet in the main viewscreen. "Since the moons are not there, logic dictates that a civilization indeed rose on that planet and developed space flight."

Tiffe frowned at the viewscreen. "Maybe in this universe, the moons didn't form. Instead, we have this ring."

"That is a possibility," conceded Tuvok. "However, the ring appears artificial. There is too much variance in how light is reflected by the ring."

Troubling indeed.

When the _Excelsior_ finally reached Vulcan itself, they were able to figure out more information. Most of that information, the bridge crew could draw from the main viewscreen.

Wreckages of ships, metal debris, and crystallized organic material made up the ring. Most of the broken ships and debris were the ruddy color unique to Vulcan craft. Many of the other debris were a glittering blue polycrystalline alloy. Many of the organic material that were not bodies or frozen fluids appeared to be torn pieces of bioarmor of rustic brown, golden-green, and slick-looking black. Almost all were battle-scorched.

The planet itself fared little better. Scorch marks made crisscrossing lines along with a few impact craters on the planet's surface.

Akaar, choking with horror, said, "The impact craters do not match any pattern of orbital bombardment. Most likely, they were result of ships crashing into the surface...." He trailed off as the main viewscreen magnified to show Vulcan's capital city, ShiKahr. It was clear that the large magnificent city suffered the most damage of all the Vulcan cities. It was like a nightmare. Dreams of relief and answers were as shattered as those ships in the ring.

Sulu finally closed his mouth. "Are there...anyone on the planet?"

Tuvok refined the science station's sensitive sensors. Upon seeing the readings, an odd sense of relief came deep within him before he could suppress it. "Yes, captain. Approximately 500,000 Vulcan biosigns spread across the planet. Most of them are underground in caves, catacombs or villages dug into the surface. Others are deep in the mountains. No clear indication of advanced technology among the inhabitants."

Lojur stared at the viewscreen, thinking of his own home on Alpha Centauri VII. "500,000.... Our Vulcan supports two billion inhabitants. What happened?"

Tuvok again took readings at his station. "Sensor analysis of the debris indicates that the event occurred 1,000 years ago, sometime in Earth's mid-13th century.

A beep sounded from Janice's console. Sulu turned to the female communications officer, surprised. "I thought there's no advanced technology on the planet! Lieutenant Commander, what is it?"

Janice turned around, surprise on her face. "Subspace activity! It has Starfleet signatures in it!"

The _Enterprise_! So Kirk has survived the transit into this universe after all! "Where?!" Sulu demanded.

"6.4 light-years away...in the Epsilon Eridani System!"

"Helm—!"

Lojur was already ahead of Sulu. "Aye, aye sir! Course plotted and laid in."

"Warp 9!" As the whine of the _Excelsior_'s warp drive increased softly, Sulu asked impatiently, "ETA to Epsilon Eridani?"

"One day, 12 hours, 57 minutes, sir!" answered Tiffe.

**USS _Enterprise_**

Spock found himself in an open air temple high on a forbidding peak. Rising from the far end of the saucer-shaped platform behind the twin altars was an elegant version of the Vulcan hand salute shaped in gleaming metal. He recognized the temple as being the one where the priestess T'Lar performed the _fal-tor-pan_, the refusion, transferring his katra from Dr. McCoy back into his body. Dusty mountains rose sharply from the narrow valley floor. What was he doing on Vulcan? The narrow valley-pass, the Angata Kiti, the "Little Plain" permitted access from the Plains of Gol through the Gol Mountains to the Thanar Sea to the east. Spock looked to the west at where the pass opened out to the plains beyond. Sitting almost right at the entrance of the pass was a walled city on the edge of the arid Plains of Gol.

Spock frowned. This was not logical. The city of Mahoza, guardian of the pass, was destroyed before the First Age of Expansion, razed by troops of the nascent T'Kalasa Empire. So how could he possibly know what the ancient city was like? Suddenly, it was as if he flew forward from the open air temple and was able to look closely at Mahoza. He accepted the odd event as dreamers would accept. The hilltop in the center of the walled city was a temple and monastery for Kolinahr monks.

He could see a huge T'Kalasan army approaching from over the Plains of Gol, bristling with spears and bows, the hot Vulcan sun glinting off the T'Kalasan armors, helmets, shields and blades. Raising an eyebrow, Spock allowed himself to watch as T'Kalasan bowmen, longbowmen, crossbowmen and ballista operators stepped forward out of the army. The efficiency of the T'Kalasan armies was legendary on Vulcan, and on a few other planets when the First Age of Expansion began.

Arrows fitted into the various forms of bows, the soldiers behind the arrow men began pounding the butts of their spears into the ground in rhythm with a chant in Golic Vulcan to encourage the arrow men: "_I'koi! I'koi! I'koi!_" Attack, attack, attack.

The snap of bowstrings announced the release of thousands of arrows. The arrows flew high and true, a rain of death that blotted out the sun. Death went over the high walls of Mahoza and struck the rooftops and inhabitants of the city. The Kolinahr monks began chanting in the temple as the temple's massive gong sounded sonorously.

"_I'koi! I'koi! I'koi!_" Bow strings snapped and arrows blackened the sky again as they flew over the walls into Mahoza.

A man appeared on the city walls, larger than normal Vulcans of this era. The man ululated and began to dance on the walls of Mahoza and to sing. Instead of the typical dark Vulcan eyes, his eyes were Kirk's eyes.

"Fascinating," said Spock to himself. He was seeing legend come to life before his eyes. If he was correct, the man was Hormin, son of the deity of love and death, T'nanna, sometimes called the Lady of the Shadows.

"_We'll drink the wine till the cup is dry, and kiss our daughters so they'll not cry, and raise the banners for we fly to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows. We'll dance all night while the moons run free, and woo the ladies upon our knee, and then you'll ride along with me, to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows. We'll sing all night, and drink all day, and in the temples we'll pray, and when it's done, then we'll away, to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows. There're some delight in wine, and some in ladies with ankles fine but my delight, yes, always mine, is to dance with the Lady o' the Shadows."_

Throughout the song and dance, the T'Kalasan army thumped their spears to the periodical chant of "_I'koi! I'koi! I'koi!_" and the arrows were loosed upon the city. This time, Hormin, in his dance, blocked many of the arrows while most of the other arrows were made to either strike the city walls themselves or overshoot the city entirely.

Mahozan city officials in their officious robes climbed up on the wall. The monks' chant became the keening of ceremonial mourners. Spock knew that by now the monks had discovered the body of the city governor murdered by those city officials. The terrified officials reached Hormin and stabbed the dancing man with long daggers, killing him out of fear.

A woman in fluttering red robes appeared out of a dust cloud on the plain between the city and the army. It was T'nanna, Hormin's divine mother. Spock's eyebrows climbed up to his hairline. It was illogical. Vulcans did not dream so creatively, nor did they see legends in such clarity. The woman, in a swirl of red robes, screamed. The banshee scream resounded across the plains and the mountains. T'nanna pointed at Mahoza and lightning bolts lashed down from a clear cloudless sky at the city. As if that was the signal, the T'Kalasan army charged forward to storm the now burning city. T'nanna, impossibly, turned to look at Spock himself. Suddenly all Spock could see were her dark, dark almond eyes. Howling, she disappeared under the glittering army's onslaught.

Spock sat up in his bed, emotions quickly forced under his self-control. He was back on the _Enterprise_. How...disturbing and troubling. Yet intriguing.

xxxxxxxxx

Captain Kirk pecked at the compadd with his fingers to rearrange some orders. Thanks to the Brakiri, Abbai and Markab money, they've completed their repairs. Giving the compadd back to a waiting ensign, he looked up from the command chair as Spock stepped through the turbolift doors. The Vulcan was late this morning. It was unlike him.

"Spock? Are you all right?"

Spock glanced at Kirk who could see that his eyes were troubled. "Nothing is wrong. Excepting our presence in this universe, of course."

Kirk frowned. Spock was telling the truth, yet he didn't answer the question directly. Something was definitely bothering him, but he left that alone. He knew that, in time, his friend would tell.

Pavel Chekov looked up from the readings in his navigation station. "Keptin, the jumpgate is activating."

"Onscreen." The concept of hyperspace and jumpgates fascinated him. It seemed somehow more democratic than the warp drive. Any ship that was incapable of crossing interstellar distances could easily use the jumpgate network. That has interesting implications for the Federation's protocols for the Prime Directive and First Contact. Currently, Federation First Contact protocols for a world just joining the galactic community required careful surveillance, and then beaming down directly to the homeworld's government without an encounter in space, if possible. How would First Contact diplomats handle a situation where even Earth's ancient space shuttle could merely enter a jumpgate and reach another star system?

And the speed afforded in hyperspace! Kirk was still confused about the hyperspace distance in relation to normal space. Something about the properties of hyperspace itself. It took 3 days to get to Earth 10.5 light-years from the Epsilon Eridani System, a trip that could be matched at warp 8.6, while a trip from Epsilon Eridani to Centauri Prime in the Zeta Tucanae System 21 light-years away only took 4 days in hyperspace. To match that, it required the almost impossible speed of more than warp 9.6. Spock and Scotty had wondered about the possibility of using warp in hyperspace itself.

Bright lights ran down the length of the jumpgate's four struts as the vortex generator built up the energy needed to punch a hole into hyperspace. A blue wormhole-like vortex spilled forward from where the lights terminated. A bright light flashed in the dark maw of the vortex, signaling an incoming ship. A vessel that was faintly reminiscent of a squid shot out of the jumpgate, petals open and pulsing blue on their inner side. The vortex in the jumpgate collapsed on itself.

Chekov reported, "Keptin, sensors are reading that wessel as an organic life-form, carrying another life-form inside itself."

Spock arched an eyebrow. A living bioship. Rumors and reports said that the Vorlon Empire was that advanced. Except for a faint reading of organic technology inside Babylon 5, especially in the spacedock section, they had seen no evidence of the vaunted Vorlon biotechnology. He grabbed the rare opportunity to study the organic vessel closely.

A sensor reading caused Spock to look back up at the main viewscreen in surprise. "Jim, the life-form inside the vessel is human."

The bridge shared Spock's surprise at that piece of information.

The Vorlon transport paused in its path towards Babylon 5. It turned slowly so that its forward tentacle-like appendages pointed at the _Enterprise_. Tension rose on the bridge. They knew that the Vorlons were not fond of the Federationers for some reason. The organic vessel turned back to Babylon 5 and slowly folded its petals close to its hull.

While the Vorlon transport slowly entered the open gate in the space station, Kirk looked for answers from Spock who obliged. "As far as sensors could tell, the vessel did nothing at all to us."

"But it stopped for a look."

"Indeed. As I said, sensors read nothing from the vessel. However, I sensed a faint telepathic scan sweeping through the _Enterprise_. As far as I could tell, the scan did not interfere with anything. Or anyone for that matter."

Kirk leaned forward. The star charts that they got from the Vree indicated that the Vorlons had the largest empire of any sentient species in this quantum reality. He had thought that the Vorlons would be major players in local interstellar politics, but as far as he could tell, the Vorlon ambassador had done nothing but watch from the sidelines. That raised red flags in his guts. Almost all of the ancient powerful and advanced species he'd met in his home universe interfered in a big way, even if just once or twice. They had been limited to one star system or so, but these Vorlons had an empire bigger than the Federation, the Romulan and Klingon Empires together. Plus, since their empire was closer to the galactic core, it had a lot more star matter. And all reports indicate that the Vorlon Empire didn't tolerate foreign entrances just like the Metrons and the Tholians. He jumped off the command chair to go to the turbolift. "Maybe it's time we had a talk with Ambassador Kosh."

Just before the turbolift opened, the jumpgate activated again and a Centauri personal liner flew out and made its way to Babylon 5.

Spock hurried to follow him into the turbolift. After ordering the turbolift to take them to the shuttle-bay, he said, "In my mind meld with Ms. Talia Winters, she didn't know much about the ambassador, but what knowledge she had indicated that we should watch the Vorlon."

**Babylon 5**

Delenn was nervous. She was ready to face Sebastian's Inquisition. But why didn't she feel ready? She didn't know what would happen. If she died.... She regretted not making up for the argument with John Sheridan. She knew that John was still fond of her as evidenced by the help he gave for the arrangements with Sebastian.

Delenn reached Gray 19. The pressure door opened for her. The area was so dark. A few circles of light kept the darkness from being absolute. She took comfort from the fact that the mix of light and dark produced grayness. _I am Gray_. Delenn took a deep breath and stepped through into one of the circles of light on the floor. The pressure door slid shut behind her. Puzzled and afraid, Delenn searched the gray darkness for the Inquisitor and stepped into another circle of light. And to another.

"That's far enough!"

A pair of manacles clattered across the floor. The large heavy-looking bracelets appeared to have snakes represented on them.

"Put them on!"

As she slipped her hands through the manacles, Delenn sincerely hoped she would survive the Inquisition.

xxxxxxxxx

Morden dropped several small diamonds into the customs officer's hand and slipped past customs. He could hear the customs officer muttering about people getting past easily these days. Morden smiled. The so-called Inquisitor must have gone past already. Foolish of the Vorlons to waste possible assets that way. Morden chuckled. And ironic. This...Inquisition pushes the victims to their limits, sometimes beyond, thus making the victims, those who survive, stronger. That was very Shadowy of the Vorlons.

He spotted the one he needed to talk with.

He walked a little more briskly through the crowd to intercept him. It wasn't too difficult. Something about Morden caused the crowd to part, make way for him, and give enough space for one human and two invisible beings. He stopped walking, allowing the one he sought to walk straight to him. Touching his pendant, Morden put on his best smile.

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk, I presume."

The starship captain pulled up before bumping into Morden. "What do you want? I'm busy, Mr....."

Morden smiled wider as if catching an inside joke. "Morden. Rather, I should be asking you. What do you want?"

Kirk gestured for Spock to keep walking. "Another time. We can talk later."

Morden blocked Kirk again, his smile now enigmatic, knowing. "There is no other time. My associates require me to have your answer. What do you want?"

"Come on, Spock! The man's crazy."

Spock looked at Morden. _Really_ looked, opening his disciplined mind. It seemed to Spock that Morden's gaze locked with his. The gaze reminded him of T'nanna in the dream. The human appeared to darken, as if a shadow fell upon him, though there was nothing to block the lights of the Zocalo. Morden continued to darken until he was little more than a silhouette, a shadow. Whispers hovered below the range of his mind, but his sharp Vulcan ears perceived some odd...clicks, chirps and soft chittering noises. The noises were almost...insectoid.

"Jim. I believe it is imperative that you answer him. Then we must...go about our business." Spock gave Kirk a meaningful look.

Morden dipped his head in newfound respect for Spock. "It _is_ imperative for m—my associates. What do you want?"

Annoyed and irritated, Captain Kirk turned to Morden. "I am sick and tired of people wanting me to do something or other. Like you, mister! For once, I'd like to do everything I want. I have saved the galaxy again and again. My galaxy, that is. That's another thing. I want to go home and wrap myself in joy. Shuck off the damned Starfleet duty and limitations. They say time is the fire in which we burn. I want to stop burning! The galaxy owes me!"

Morden made a slight bow. "I see. Is that all you want?"

Kirk thought on that. Thinking about the powerful starship _Enterprise_, his mind, for some reason, unconsciously brought up some of the memories of Emperor Tiberius afforded by the transpatial alien device over Titan V. Lenore Karidian whispering again, _Caesar of the stars._

No. He pulled back from those thoughts and settled on the memory of the cabin in Montana, his dog Butler, and Antonia. Too late for them. And there's Spock, of course. His _t'hy'la_. Turning back to Morden, it was Kirk's turn smile enigmatically. "Yes. That's all."

Morden bowed once more and walked away, fingering his pendant.

xxxxxxxxx

"Who are you?" Sebastian thumped his cane hard onto the deck as he quietly spoke the question into Delenn's face. Mercifully, the human dressed in Victorian clothes didn't grasp the crystal atop the cane tightly enough to send pain coursing through Delenn.

"Who are you," Sebastian was now shouting. "Who are you to oppose the Vorlons?!"

"I...I did not 'oppose' them—"

"Do _not_ quipple over technicalities with me!" Sebastian thumped his cane again, this time squeezing the crystal atop it. Energy crackled and hissed as Delenn screamed in the pain jolting from the manacles. _John!_

"The Vorlons asked you to make the so-called 'Newcomers' leave. You have failed in your duty to them." Sebastian narrowed his eyes as Delenn panted. He came closer to her face, noses almost touching.

"You don't like it here, _don't you_? You would let the intruders wreck what the Vorlons have worked so hard to preserve while you reach for glory! You'd rather you were back in your quarters, asleep, dreaming dreams of glory!"

Sebastian smiled as he caressed the crystal on his cane. Delenn gasped as faint pain trickled into her, tickling the Minbari, reminding her once again the power of the Inquisitor and his masters.

xxxxxxxxx

Liria Satarah, dressed in mourning whites, pushed the food on her plate with a fork. Ever since Janos 7, she had very little appetite. She gazed at the mostly empty restaurant's windows overlooking the gardens in Babylon 5's Green Sector. So alone, unable to go home at either Betazed or Delta IV. By now, Lady Neclauna Nore would be presumed dead on Betazed and her too-young son, Cort Enaren, would be invested as the Scion of the Fourth House, Heir to the Blessed Books of Katara and Holder of the Sacred Scepter of Betazed.

Neclauna was so good to her. She missed her. Neclauna had taken care of her mother after her Phase-induced affair with a Deltan man in the Federation First Contact team. After her mother's death, Lady Neclauna had taken the little girl into her house, almost adopting her. Liria was given the privileges of the Fourth House, even allowed to use them to gain an admission into the prestigious University of Medara. Liria reached out for the glass of wine and downed all of the wine.

A shadow came over her, causing her to look up. It was a human man dressed in a very sharp business suit with a pendant hanging at his neck. He was very handsome. She was momentarily tempted to invite him into her bed and then turn on her pheromones high enough to give him a heart attack when she's satisfied with him. Odd...she could sense _three_ sets of emotions from the direction of the man.

"Is there a problem, Mr....?"

"Morden. May I sit?"

Frowning at the presumption of the man, she nodded. Morden sat in the chair opposite her. Liria leaned forward onto her elbows on the table. She opened her mind to read this human. It was unethical by Betazoid standards, but she threw all of that out when she killed with her mind at Janos 7. Morden's face somehow disappeared into shadow. Briefly, it appeared as if there were faint dark images of two giant spider-like beings flanking the human. Just for an instant, she thought she could see glowing eyes, many more than a pair on each faint image. She threw her hands up to her temples and the images vanished as Liria slammed down barriers around her mind.

Shakily, she looked at Morden sideways. The human looked as if he knew what she just did and saw. "Wha...what was that?"

Morden smiled widely. "Ah...my...protection. Actually, that's something I want to discuss with you. I know what happened at Janos 7."

Liria narrowed her eyes at Morden. "We can protect ourselves," she said icily.

"So I hear. I must tell you, I'm impressed with how you handled...me just now, Liria. I can call you Liria? The last time someone like you scanned me, she screamed and almost fainted. And that was just a surface scan. Now.... What do you want?"

Liria carefully reached out to Morden with her empathic ability, carefully filtering out the other two sets of emotions flanking him. She could sense that he had a sincere desire to make people happy, to grant people's wishes. Underneath that was a simmering feeling of resentment against the universe. _That_ feeling, she could identify with.

Liria looked down at her plate, forcing herself not to tremble with the raging emotions. "I want to make everyone learn not to screw with me, not to violate everyone else. I want a way to teach them all. I want to go home and let your stupid reality burn!" Liria looked up at Morden. "Can you and your associates arrange that for me?"

He smiled. "Normally, you and your answer would not satisfy my associates. Actually, my associates would have preferred to see you dead. Oh, don't worry, things have changed." He leaned forward, flashing his perfect white teeth and dropping his voice to a whisper. "The Great Lord will give you a place among us."

Liria barked a laugh. "Great Lord?"

"Yes. The Great Lord of the Dark. Don't laugh. He knows more than you suspect. We'll explain if you come with us. It _is_ possible to talk with him and you can...hear him. You can...bathe in his presence." His face seemed to shine with memory. Liria sensed his awe and ecstasy. He was being totally honest, which was more than she could say for the locals. He breathed through parted lips and seemed to stare at something distant and wondrous. It was a feeling that Liria associated with a memory of the most intense orgasm that any Deltan could inspire. She realized that she _wanted_ to experience that and draw power from that. The power to teach them all and feel that intensely good about it....

"Words cannot describe it.... Oh...foolish me, you can read me. But scanning me is not the same. You must experience it to _really_ know. You must." Morden went back to his serious self as if he realized he got too vulnerable as a man. He stood up. "Think about it, Liria." He took a pendant out from inside his jacket. It was a copy of the pendant he was wearing. He delicately put it on the table in front of Liria. "If you accept, just hold this and think about it."

Morden left the restaurant. Liria looked down at the pendant lying on the table. Perhaps this Mr. Morden doesn't deserve the pheromonal death after all.

xxxxxxxxx

Lennier was running, freaking out. Insanity! Why would the Vorlons do this to Satai Delenn? Finally he saw Captain Sheridan. Breathlessly puffing up to him, he said, "You can defy Kosh! You must defy him!"

"Whoa, whoa, what's going on?"

"Save Delenn! You must save her from the Inquisitor!"

Sheridan frowned at the panicking Minbari. "The ambassador chose to follow Kosh. It's not my business."

Lennier came close to Sheridan, nearly reaching out to grab the captain's uniform. "You don't understand. The Inquisitor.... I...I believe he's killing her. Please!"

Sheridan ran, catapulted into action beyond any pettiness, beyond any thought for himself. Only Delenn mattered in the moment.

xxxxxxxxx

Captains Kirk and Spock donned the breather masks and entered the alien sector. Spock made sure that his tricorder was functioning. Moving through the mists, they soon came up to a door. Before pressing the doorchime, the door slid open. Glancing at Spock, Kirk tentatively stepped forward. Did Kosh know they were coming?

In the mist, Ambassador Kosh was standing, facing the two visitors. The ambassador's iris narrowed at Spock who was studying the readings on his tricorder. Kirk studied the Vorlon's encounter suit, wondering what was hidden within it. "Ambassador Kosh, I am Captain Ja—"

Kosh narrowed its iris at Kirk, bowing its headpiece. The Vorlon's translator made musical tones as it spoke.

"This circle is not for you. Go." Kosh glided closer to the visitors. "Leave. Now."

Spock raised an eyebrow at the tricorder sensor readings. "Jim—" The Vulcan stopped speaking when Kosh snapped its head back to Spock. The green light in the ambassador's iris turned red. The tricorder beeped shrilly and finally fizzled as it short-circuited.

"You would know me? Impudent!"

Captain Kirk was now angry. "Now look here! We came here, expecting to act like civilized people. I have met others like you! Ancient, powerful and arrogant! Many had delusions of divinity. The Melkotians, Apollo, the Platonians, the 'god' at the center of the galaxy. I wouldn't be surprised if more such so-called gods are discovered in my universe. Little powers at the mercy of bigger powers! The Federation won't stand for it! _I_ won't stand for arrogance from you!"

Ambassador Kosh's iris color returned to green. "You are not to remain in the circle. The flock cannot tolerate your interference. Leave."

Kirk laughed mirthlessly. "We can't! We have no way to return home! We can't—" Kirk stopped as he realized what he was saying. No way to go home? He can't have already accepted that!

Kosh turned to face an organic-looking viewscreen. The organic viewscreen remained dark. Kirk got the feeling that the Vorlon pitied them. He didn't like that. The ambassador's translator sparkled again. "Then the willows must scuttle carefully."

Spock, having given up trying to reactivate the tricorder, put the destroyed device back into its bag. "That is not logical. Trees do not have the sentience for willful destruction. However, if you mean ourselves, Ambassador, we will not willingly 'scuttle' ourselves."

Kosh's translator flashed colorfully and tinkled. "Then the shepherds of the circle will come."

Kirk wished he had a phaser with him to teach this Vorlon a lesson. His communicator beeped for attention. Mmmm, perhaps he could use the transporter? Nah, that would be very unprofessional, not to mention unethical. Opening it, the captain said, "Kirk here."

The singer's voice of Uhura excitedly came out of the communicator. "_Captain Kirk! Sensors are detecting a ship approaching the system at high warp._"

Warp? As far as they knew, this universe had no warp technology. Only hyperspace. "Are you sure, Commander?"

"_Yes sir. Captain...it's the_ Excelsior."

Stunned, Kirk looked at Spock then at Kosh. It was as if a dream became reality. The Federation had found a way into this universe! The Vorlon ambassador dipped its head mournfully. "The avalanche has started. It is too late for the pebbles to vote."

xxxxxxxxx

Ivanova threw her face close to her console, eyes wide. She had thought that the mini-nova-like flash of light signified an entirely new form of jumppoint. Not such a far-fetched theory, considering the form of jumppoint used in the rumors of mysterious aliens at Sigma 957. When the new white-blue starship vectored into the system and slowed upon approach to Babylon 5, they were ready to analyze the new type of jumppoint with the best tachyon scanners available on the station, only to find nothing to indicate hyperspace. It was an entirely new form of FTL drive. Just before the _Excelsior_ slowed its way out of warp to sublight speeds, the scanners had caught glimpses of a spatial distortion.

She was no scientist, but the closest comparison she could think of was the strongest of Minbari gravitic engines. Minbari gravitic technology manipulated a Zero Point Field to pull at the superstrings of the universe. Essentially, instead of propelling itself towards a planet, a gravitic ship uses the planet's gravity field to pull itself closer.

But to be able to use it in the void between the stars where there's no gravity wells! The lack of hyperspace characteristics indicated it could also be used at superluminal speeds in normal space, impossible as it should be!

"Mr. Corwin, record everything! The captain will want to see this!"

xxxxxxxxx

Light flared from Sebastian's cane, growing brighter and brighter until the Inquisitor could no longer be seen. The light faded. Sheridan and Delenn were surprised to see that Sebastian and the cane were now gone. The manacles were also gone from Delenn's wrists and Sheridan was no longer bound to the rack on the wall. He stumblingly ran to the Minbari just standing up from the floor. They fell into each other's arms, as much for mutual physical support in their weakness and exhaustion as for emotional support.

"Delenn...are you all right?"

Still trying to catch her breath, Delenn didn't want Sheridan to worry too much about her. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Good. Delenn.... I...I'm sorry."

Delenn smiled weakly. "I am sorry as well. The...the Newcomers can stay. It no longer matters. What matters is...us."

The pressure door slid open, offering a way out of the area. Delenn and Sheridan gazed into each other's eyes. Are they really free of the Inquisitor? They cautiously walked to the door, still supporting each other. Out of the darkness beyond the door came Sebastian. The couple almost groaned in disappointment. Sebastian grinned mischievously at their reaction.

"You can go. You've passed, both of you."

Delenn could hardly believe it. "Passed what?"

Amazingly, wonder came over Sebastian's Victorian face. "How do you know the Chosen Ones? 'No greater love hath a man than he lay down his life for his brother.' Not for millions, not for glory, not for fame. For one person, in the dark, where no one will ever know or see. I have been in the service of the Vorlons for centuries, looking for you. Diogenes with his lamp, looking for an honest man willing to die for all the wrong reasons. At last, my job is finished! _Yours_ is just beginning! When the Darkness comes, know this: You _are_ the right people, in the right place, at the right time!"

Sebastian respectfully bowed his head at Delenn and Sheridan and walked away. The couple, who had come to a new understanding of each other under the Inquisitor's ministration, gazed deeply into each other's eyes, trying to read each other's minds. Grateful and glad, they hugged and held each other tightly.

xxxxxxxxx

Captain Sulu walked through customs, flanked by Rukaiya and Ambassador Miranda Jones. They were amazed at everything around them. An Earth Alliance, a universe full of unknown aliens. Yet, their amazement was tempered with somber thoughts of the fate of planet Vulcan in this universe.

"'Stand not amazed!'" It was Captain Kirk standing beside Spock. Sulu laughed at Kirk's Shakespearean reference.

"You're alive! And you've survived this universe!"

Kirk grinned mischievously. "I can't resist a good adventure." He turned his attention to Miranda Jones. "Dr. Jones! A long time!"

Miranda gave a small icy smile. "A long time indeed. I'm _Ambassador_ Jones now, _Captain_ Kirk."

Kirk smirked. "What can I say? I'm fond of keeping my rank on my ship. Perhaps you can help me establish a Federation presence in this universe, now that we have three ships together."

"Perhaps."

Kirk then turned to the Argelian woman, Rukaiya. "Ah...I see that beauty hasn't failed in my absence."

Rukaiya smiled pleasantly. "I'm Rukaiya, the _Excelsior_'s ship counselor."

Kirk looked at Sulu, surprised. "Ship counselor?"

Sulu shrugged wryly. "Take it up with Starfleet Command."

Kirk offered an arm to Rukaiya who then took it. The group walked away from the customs area. They were consciously aware of stares from people in the area, both human and alien. They caught sight of Captain Sheridan walking alongside a human man who, strangely enough, was dressed in a Victorian suit, complete with a top hat.

Captain Kirk waved to Captain Sheridan. "Ah, Captain! Meet my fellow starship captain, Hikaru Sulu of the USS _Excelsior_. Sulu, this is Captain John Sheridan, the military governor of Babylon 5 for the Earth Alliance. Oh, this is Ambassador Miranda Jones. We're hoping that she can be our ambassador to Babylon 5."

Miranda primly bowed slightly, causing the light to play on the jewels in her sensor net gown and the tiny tiara in her dark hair. Sebastian twisted his lips at the sight of the jeweled net worn over her dress. Sheridan could almost hear Sebastian repeating his words to him before the Inquisition: _Corruption, immorality, chaos!_

Miranda pursed her lips at Sebastian, as if she knew what he was thinking.

Before Sheridan could extend a hand to either Sulu or Miranda, Rukaiya suddenly panted as if experiencing a mild seizure. Eyes gone empty, the Argelian woman panted, "Oh! Oh! Here is evil. Monstrous terrible evil! Consuming hunger...a hunger that never dies! An ancient terror...." The Argelian seeress pointed at Sebastian, shouting, "Redjac...REDJAC!!" Rukaiya fainted, falling into Sulu's arms.

Kirk stared at Sebastian who was staring at Rukaiya with surprise. He'd heard those trance-induced words before...on Argelius II when Scotty was framed for the murder of three women in 2267. Too bad they left their phasers back on the ship. He pointed a finger straight at Sebastian. "Captain Sheridan! This man is dangerous! You must throw him in the brig! No, you _must_ space him!"

Sheridan gestured to calm the alarmed Federationers. Rukaiya was just waking back up as Miranda and Sulu helped her into a seat. It was a good thing that they agreed to leave their weapons on their ships. "Come with us. Looks like this is a conversation that requires privacy." Several passersby were looking at Rukaiya with curiosity. Sheridan led Sebastian and the Federationers back through customs to the doors leading into Bay 25. Miranda stayed behind with Rukaiya. Once he was sure of the privacy, Sheridan turned to Sebastian.

"I don't know about this 'Redjac' that the lady spoke of, but I did a little digging based on what Mr. Sebastian told me." Sheridan's voice now had a vindictive edge. Kirk wondered what Sebastian did to the Earth captain. Have there been unsolved murders lately on the station? He hasn't heard anything about that. "The records confirm you lived on Earth, in London, in the year 1888. The records also indicate that you vanished suddenly, without a trace on November 11, 1888. It's a very interesting date, Mr. Sebastian!"

"Indeed," said Spock. "The day before that saw the last of a string of murders in Whitechapel, a part of London's East End." Although there was no visible sign on the Vulcan, he was warily ready to launch an assault on Sebastian. "It is also interesting that you remain the same human you were in 19th century London whereas in our universe, you possessed various bodies to achieve your goals."

Sheridan peered at Spock. Body possession? It sounded like a bad horror film.

Sebastian looked at everyone for a long time, then appeared to have come to a decision. "The city was drowning in decay, chaos, immorality! A message needed to be sent, etched in blood for all the world to see! A warning. In the pursuit of my 'holy cause', I—did things, terrible things, unspeakable things! The world condemned me, but it didn't matter because I believed I was right and the world was wrong! I believed I was the divine messenger! I believed I was—"

"Chosen?" sneered Sheridan.

Sebastian appeared chastened by that sneer. "Yes. Chosen." The Victorian man turned to the Federationers. "One of the names given to me was 'Red Jack.' It would appear that I have a counterpart in your universe. I'm curious...what happened to my counterpart?"

Spock took up the burden of explanation. "Our Redjac was a noncorporeal lifeform that fed on fear, going from body to body. After 1888 London, he was responsible for the murder of 7 women in Shanghai, China on Earth in 1932; 5 women in 1974 Kiev, Russia; 8 women in the Martian Colonies in 2105; 10 women in Heliopolis on Alpha Eridani II in 2156; and Redjac framed our chief engineer, Mr. Scott, for the murder of three women on Argelius II during one of our missions. The last person that Redjac possessed was Inspector Hengist from Deneb II where the killer was known as Kesla. Redjac was also known as Baratis on Rigel IV."

Sebastian shook his head regretfully. "So my counterpart's delusion has reached to other worlds. What happened to him?"

Kirk bared his teeth in an expression bordering on a sneer. "We dispersed him out in space. It was the end of Redjac. We could do the same favor for you."

Sebastian smiled mockingly. "If I was a free man, I would gladly accept the favor. Oh...if you do the favor anyway, the Vorlons will want to punish you. In London, I was...found by the Vorlons. They showed me the depth of my mistake. My crime. My...presumption! They have locked, no, _imprisoned_ me in this body as I did four hundred years of penance in their service. A job for which they said I was ideally suited! Now...." Sebastian became bitter. "...perhaps...they will finally do me the favor that you, Captain Kirk, did to your Redjac!"

"I think that would be wise," said Captain Sheridan. He was still feeling vindictive about the torture meted out to him and Delenn in the Inquisition.

Sebastian said, "Now Captain Sheridan, I must make my appointment with my masters." The door to Bay 25 slid open at the captain's touch on a small console. Sebastian raised his top hat off his head in salute at Sheridan and the Federationers. "Good luck to you in _your_ holy cause, Captain Sheridan! May _your_ choices have better results than mine! May you return home and realize your dreams, so-called Newcomers, without feeling the shepherd's staff!"

Sebastian stepped into the gloom of Bay 25 toward the waiting Vorlon transport, leaving everyone to ponder his final words.

xxxxxxxxx

Liria Satarah made sure that the light didn't cause the pendant to flash, attracting unwanted attention. She slipped out of the shuttle from the _Hakudo Maru_ she'd taken into Babylon 5. She wished she could just beam over, but the centrifugal movement of the station made transport iffy. While a person could still transport over into a clear area, the station's movement within the seconds of transport could mean an arm materializing in a wall or a leg in a floor or worse. But transport _to_ the ship was fine. She didn't know whether a Starfleet ship could do the transport both ways.

Liria peered into the dimness of the docking bay. Finally, she spotted a small bulbous vessel the size of the Vulcan-built red shuttle. The craft, entirely purple, had two pylons for tails, each ending in golden forward-pointing fins.

Quickly, she went over to the Centauri personal liner. Through its open door, Liria could see a luxurious setting. Plush couches, fringed pillows and curtains, a fully equipped bar, and a small chandelier. It was like a room taken out of a palace or from a quarter in the Moulin Rouge in Paris on Earth and made into a shuttle. A man stepped into view.

"I'm glad you accepted," said Mr. Morden.

xxxxxxxxx

Londo Mollari downed the last drop of brivari and went to bed. He had thought he saw Mr. Morden and dismissed it as imagination. He didn't want to think about him. It would mean thinking about his own actions and decisions. Soon, the drowsiness induced by the brivari slipped him into sleep.

Londo tossed and turned in his bed, beginning to dream.

"Keep this up, G'Kar, and soon you won't have a planet to protect!"

Narn fighters made beelines toward a space station above Raghesh 3, destroying it. Within seconds, the image dissolves and...

...A hand emerging from a huge fiery sun, reaching for something...

...Centauri Prime from orbit...

...Londo stands on a carefully arranged sandy ground. He helplessly looks up, shielding his eyes with his hands from the sun. In the clear blue sky, slimy black ships with spouting spines flew overhead. At first, the strange black ships were few, but soon they were many, so many they blotted out the sun...

...Londo stands in the Imperial White before bowing his head for an old high priest to place a crown upon his head. Suddenly everything seems to pause, to trip for a second, as if it was a vid encountering a brief malfunction...

"Interesting delusions you have, Londo."

Surprised at the unexpected turn his dream had taken, Londo looks up at the old high priest. Except...the high priest is not old anymore.

"Morden!"

The slick human grins. He wears his customary pendant over the robes of the coronation high priest. Londo is slightly annoyed to see that Morden still looks ridiculously handsome in those robes.

Making a 'come-hither' finger at Londo, Morden says, "Come."

Londo hesitates. It is his dream, right? Just a dream. He follows Morden to the back of the high altar. This part of the Coronation Temple should be bright, light and airy like the rest of it, but it is dim, shadowy and dank. A rough door is set in the wall behind the high altar, splintery and dry.

Eyeing the aged ivory doorhandle, Londo asks, "What's this? This is my dream. You should not be here, I think."

Morden smiles, flashing perfect teeth as white as Londo's ceremonial clothing. "I'm not really here. Someone wants to meet you. It's..." Morden gives one of those damnable smiles again. "Let's say it's a senior associate."

Londo perks up. This is different. Not "associates." Shrugging, Londo turns the doorhandle and the door opens easily. A grim stone-walled chamber is behind the door. He looks back at Morden. Somehow he is not surprised to find the human gone, vanished.

Londo steps into the chamber. One wall has an arch opening onto a stone balcony. The balcony overlooks a large city. Dark spires, seeming to be made of a similar material as the black ships he saw earlier, reach up to the great frosted glass dome hiding the sky from the city.

Looking around the room, Londo thinks that the chamber looks like it was melted out of the gray stone. Flames roar in the fireplace, but Londo feels no heat from the fire. The fireplace is built of strange oval stones. The stones are wet, slick in spite of the fire, appearing to be merely stones when he looks straight at them. But when he glimpses them out the corner of his eye, the stones seem to be faces. Faces of men and women of all races twisting in anguish, moaning and screaming silently.

It is disturbing. Londo had never known himself to be so morbidly creative in his dreams.

Except when glimpsing through the veils of time, of course.

A being stands in front of the fireplace. It is...simply there where it wasn't only a moment ago. The being is a blurry shadow, out of focus. The Great Game on Centauri Prime taught Londo that even shadows moving in the dark can be fatally dangerous. Londo squints to see who it was. The dark being approaches, clearing, brightening into a normal being who is either a human or a Centauri woman. He isn't sure, but she has long midnight black hair instead of a shorn head like any proper Centauri woman. A beautiful one, at that, dressed all in the purest of white, a white that makes snow seem filthy, with silver jewelry on the dress and in her hair. Her primal beauty was such that Londo isn't sure if the being is actually a mortal. Londo has to ignore his instinctive feeling of scandal. Centauri women were forbidden to dress all in white. Too Imperial for women on Centauri worlds. The only women permitted to dress all in white were the empress and the telepathic women in the Emperor's Own.

"Finally, I meet a valued Friend of the Dark. Welcome to the city of Great Dis," the woman with impossibly pale skin says in the language of Centauro. For an instant, her eyes and mouth becomes openings into endless caverns of fire.

Londo gasps and steps backward. This has to be a dream. He could sense great power emanating from the woman. "This is a dream," Londo murmurs. "A nightmare." He squeezes his eyes shut, urging himself to wake up.

He opens his eyes and sees that the room is still there, the black city still gleaming oily outside the balcony. The woman by the fireplace smiles. Her eyes and mouth becomes openings into an endless furnace again.

"Is it a dream? Does it matter?" says the primally beautiful woman. Her voice did not change with the fiery transformation within her face. "Do you wrestle with dreams? Do you contend with Shadows? Do you move in sleep? My reach may be far and weak, but you would not remain sane in the Abyss."

Nervously, Londo steps backwards to the door, not daring to take his eyes off the dangerous woman. The ambassador tries the doorhandle. It is locked.

_This is a dream. It has to be._ Londo snarls, "What do you want? Who are you?"

Eyes and mouth becoming flames yet again. "Those questions may be dangerous for some, but not me. I have my own name, but I serve the one you call Morgoth."

Londo finds himself frantically jerking at the doorhandle. Morgoth! To the Centauri, Morgoth was the god of the underworld and protector of front doors. He may protect front doors, but he was not someone to trifle with. Insanity! Why wouldn't the doorhandle budge? He keeps twisting. Sweating palms slips off the handle and sharp pain stabs into one of his palms.

Londo looks closely at his palm. A splinter from the dry door is stuck straight in the center of his hand. Looking up at the woman by the fireplace, he yanks the splinter out and rolls it between his fingers nervously. Those faces on the fireplace stones....

"Are you expecting glory? Power? You have interesting delusions of becoming Emperor. I can make those delusions real, you know."

Breath becomes short in the Centauri ambassador. "Morgoth...he...is bound...in the Abyss." Londo finds strength in the mantra taught by priests in his childhood. "Morgoth was bound by the Great Maker outside of time at the moment of Creation. Bound until the end of time, until all the Centauri heavens are united."

Mocking laughter comes from the fires in her mouth. "The end of time?" The fires in her mouth and eyes become so hot Londo has to shelter his face with his hands. "Fool, you are like a rat dreaming of becoming a man. You think your slime is the universe. The death of time will bring me power such as you could not dream of. Power that the pitiful Vorlons could only envy."

"This is a dream. It must be a dream. I will wake up safe and warm in my bed on Babylon 5," Londo mutters to reassure himself.

"Do you think you are safe in your dreams? From me? Look!" The woman in white points commandingly at the mantle above the disturbing fireplace. A large rat crouches on the mantle, warily blinking and sniffing at the air. It wasn't there before. The beautiful woman crooks a finger at the rat. Squeaking, the rat arches its back, forepaws clawing into the air. The slender finger continues to curl and the rat topples, scrabbling frantically on its side, scratching at the air, its squeals becoming shrill. The rat's back keeps bending, bending with the curling finger. A sharp snap, like the breaking of a twig, sounds from the rat. It trembles violently and is still, lying bent, its ears almost touching its rear-end.

Londo swallows. What he wouldn't give for a glass of brivari. Or a sword. Even better, a Royal Guardsman's blaster. Staring at the terrifying woman, Londo stabs the splinter he was holding into the palm of his other hand and twisted it to increase the pain. The pain should wake him, but he only gets another bleeding wound for his trouble. "This is only a dream," Londo pants. "I will wake up and forget you."

The woman leans her head forward, looking at the ambassador through her long eyelashes, and smiles. "Will you?" The finger that broke the rat moves toward Londo. Crooking her finger, she asks again, "Will you?" Londo screams in terror as he arches backwards helplessly. He tries to take control of his muscles back, but it is in vain as he bends further and further backwards. "Will you?"

Londo screamed and pulled himself up in the darkness. Blankets. A pale light filtered through the curtains drawn over the windows. Thank the Great Maker! It was just a nightmare. "Lights."

A bright color drew his eyes downward to where his hands clutched the blankets. Gasping at the stain on the blankets, he turned his hands palm up. A tiny pinprick of blood welled in the center of each hand.

* * *

_Hormin's song in Spock's dream was based on the song "To Dance with Jak o' the Shadows" by Robert Jordan._


	14. Interlude: Meetings

_Peacekeeper Dax: The answer is in this chapter. "Spirit of the Abyss" Mmmm._

_Senator Pardek is from the TNG two-parter "Unification." It was mentioned in it that he sat in the Senate for about 90 years, so he was a senator at the time of Khitomer._

* * *

**Imperial Senate, Ra'tleihfi, Romulus**

Senator Pardek, representative of the Krocton Segment, glanced at the ferocious Imperial bird clutching the two homeworlds in its talons above the main entrance into the Senate chamber. Its wingtips grazed the high domed ceiling. What a fitting crest for the Star Empire. Yet it also didn't fit the Empire. This species of bird was known for its mastery of the skies and aggressiveness in pursuing and capturing its prey. The Empire had so long hid behind its borders, preferring to parry with other powers through agents. And it has not mastered the galaxy. Yet. He hoped that one day the Empire could break through its borders and realize its manifest destiny of mastery over the entire galaxy. But not now. Not with enemies like the Taurhai and the unknown attackers smashing through the Taurhai Unity. And not with the new alliance between the Federation and the Klingon Empire.

Pardek looked down across the Senate chamber from his seat at the admiral speaking directly to Praetor Saren. The middle-aged woman has been presiding over the Senate from the Praetorial throne for decades. A capable politician. She'd even survived the scandal with Ambassador Nanclus' involvement in the anti-Khitomer conspiracy.

"...are defeated. The Imperial Fleet has observed the cube-shaped vessel destroy and disable most of the combined Klingon-Federation fleet near the Klingon outpost at Klach D'kel Brakt."

A senator stood up and said, "Praetor, I recommend we offer reinforcements to the governments of the Klingon Empire and the Federation."

The Romulan admiral scoffed.

Praetor Saren raised her eyebrows at this disrespect shown to an Imperial Senator. However, this admiral was a powerful figure within the Star Empire. "Admiral Vokar, you disagree with the motion."

"Yes, sir. The unknown hostile devastated the Taurhai Unity and decimated the combined Federation-Klingon forces. The Federation is still reeling from the loss of its two premier starships at Starbase 10. The alien vessel has been observed to leave any ship alone so long as we do not make any threatening move towards it. We are untouched. Let it strike at the Klingon barbarians and the Federation! After the vessel is undoubtedly destroyed, we can move to pick up the pieces. If we are the strong, is this not the signal for war?"

Senator Pardek frowned as many of the senators clapped their knees in support of the admiral. Even though he was a firm believer in the Romulan manifest destiny, he thought it was hardly time for war. Any war with either the Federation or the Klingons would now mean a two-front war. Undesirable in any but the best of military situations. He spoke up over the knee-slapping noise, "Admiral, must it be so? We are alone, never mind the alien invader. We attack and millions, if not billions, will die. And this time, the Federation may not stop at Cheron. You do realize that the Outmarshes dividing the two territories is only 10 light-years away from Romulus itself? Besides, Admiral, the alien vessel could be a reconnaissance force. It could be a vanguard for a stronger vessel or even a fleet."

"Hah! I don't think so. Praetor, we have a pretext! The Federation has arrogantly destroyed an Imperial warbird."

"A warbird where it wasn't supposed to be," said Senator Pardek dryly. In the 15 years in which Pardek had his seat in the Imperial Senate, he had never known an admiral so narrow-minded and so bent on war. Granted, the Star Empire was still sore about the humiliating defeat at Cheron during the war with Earth, but too many died to satisfy a few people's lust for conquest, power and a grand triumphal parade on the river through the capital.

Vokar fumed. Senator Pardek continued to speak. "Besides, an alien fleet was reported to have attacked the Federation base where the _Khiem'Ra_ disappeared. Praetor, I move that both incidents be investigated by the Tal Shiar before we can consider any military action." It was too bad that Mr. Spock whom he had met at Khitomer was gone. He could have been useful for the very young and small Reunionist movement.

One of Pardek's few allies, Senator Dalek, stood up. "I second that motion."

Praetor Saren nodded. "So moved. I will instruct Vice-Chairman Jekri Kaleh myself in the next meeting of the Imperial Continuing Committee."

Admiral Aventeer Vokar almost growled in frustration.

**Starbase 10**

Commodore Basil Quinteros looked over the heads of the Starfleet science officers transferred from the Daystrom Institute on Earth. Sensors on the starbase and ships connected to the base had been working overtime to figure out where the alien fleet, the _Excelsior_, the _Ki'tang_, and that Romulan warbird had gone.

An officer turned from her tactical station, attracting attention from Quinteros. "Commodore, tactical sensors are detecting a minor subspace disturbance separate from the aliens' subspace portals."

"Analysis," ordered Commodore Quinteros.

One of the scientists studied the tactical sensor reading received at his console. He frowned at the data scrolling down his monitor. "It appears to be a quantum fissure in the space-time continuum." He went over to another console. "We cannot see it, but we could use a warp field to make it visible."

Quinteros ordered an Oberth-class science ship to take a position as close to the quantum fissure as safely possible. The small starship activated its warp drive and created a warp bubble around itself. Since all impulse engines and thrusters were carefully shut down before that, the science ship didn't take off. The warp field expanded as far as it could go.

"There," pointed out one of the scientists on the starbase as she put it on the main viewscreen. They could now see the quantum fissure. A small glowing irregular speck distorting space just around itself.

Quinteros squinted at the speck. It appeared to be too small for a starship to go through. A shuttle, perhaps?

The female scientist spoke again. "I am detecting a quantum flux from the fissure...." She looked up in surprise. "It doesn't match normal matter!"

Quinteros said, "What?"

The woman appeared to be putting herself into a lecturer's stance. Quinteros didn't want to feel like he was back in the Academy, but for the sakes of Sulu and Kirk, he would tolerate it this time.

"All matter in the universe resonates on a quantum level with a unique signature. This signature is a constant. It can't be changed at all. Not by any known process, of course. It is the basic foundation of existence."

"Okay, if I'm following you right, the quantum signature of the flux around the fissure is different from our signature."

"Correct," said the male scientist. He was getting excited. "This means the quantum fissure leads to a different quantum universe!"

Commodore Basil Quinteros turned to look through the windows of the starbase out to space, at the invisible quantum fissure near the Oberth starship. Perhaps they're all still alive somewhere in another universe....

If the alien fleet or the inhabitants of that universe didn't kill them.

**IKS _Ki'tang_**

The planet revolved under the K'Vort-class bird-of-prey. White clouds roiled across the face of the planet with a hint of green that came from the sun reflecting off the emerald oceans and the jungles that climbed around and over the mountains of the planet. Part of the cloud cover roiled more violently and bright light briefly and periodically flashed from that part. A thunderstorm on the planet. On the night side, there were few lights on the surface, indicating the presence of cities. But these lights were too dim for an industrial civilization or above. Two moons shone purely in the distance in orbit.

General Moghar shook his head in wonder. It was all here, yet it was not. Like the moons, for example. The second moon should have been dark, heavily polluted by industry and mining. It was a wonder to see Praxis being so pure and whole, not shattered, not exposing its recently broken core to the vacuum of space.

The female tactical officer spoke loudly. "General, the scouting team has beamed back."

"Good! Send them here!"

Three Klingons, two of them men and the other a woman, Kullor, soon arrived on the bridge. They saluted the general proudly, but their faces had new worry lines on them.

"Speak!" ordered Moghar.

"It _is_ Homeworld, yet...it's not," said one of the men.

Moghar frowned. "I know it's not our Qo'noS. This is a different universe! I want to know why this Qo'noS is not like our homeworld."

Kullor growled with contempt for the two men in her group. "We beamed down to First City. Soon, we have discovered that Klingons here knew honor as taught by Kahless. But they have forgotten his lesson in unity. The whole planet is covered in petty states and small empires constantly at war with each other. All are still in a global struggle with the Fek'lhri of this planet. The Sacred Peace of Kahless still holds in First City and it is still capital of an empire, but what a pitiful empire!"

Moghar frowned at this insult to his home city. Because this was a different universe, he didn't have the right to hit Kullor. This Qo'noS still had its own Fek'lhri. It was certainly not a colony or homeworld of those Fek'lhri who called themselves Centauri. He remembered something about Preservers creating and seeding worlds. It wasn't for a general to think about. Only a Federationer would be interested in that. He gestured for the scouting team to continue.

One of the men took up the report. "An emperor still sits in the Grand Hall of the High Council, but he rules in name only. The noble houses constantly wrestle each other for control of tiny parts of the not-empire. A civil war is now being fought among several of the Great Houses even though the First Empire is at war with the Ketha Lowlands."

Kullor sniffed at the man. "General Moghar doesn't want to know about the politics! He's not a Romulan!" She turned to the general and said, "Here in this universe, the Karsid Empire doesn't exist. Or at least, the Old Kings didn't come to Qo'noS and take the homeworld under their stewardship." Her face was troubled. Moghar could understand why.

Klingons had always thought that they achieved space flight because the teachings of Kahless inspired them to look to the stars. Of course, the Old Kings helped the Klingons with an education in science, but did not Kahless' teachings inspired the Karsids' generosity?

"And the Hur'q? Did they attack them like they did to our homeworld?" Moghar was hard put to not say 'us' for these Klingons were not his Klingons.

Kullor nodded. "They attacked, all right. The First Empire was at an industrial level like it was on our homeworld. Like us, the attack shattered civilization. Because there were no help from the Old Kings, this planet never fully recovered from the attack. Instead, the infighting between the Houses got fierce and made the resulting Dark Age darker. Just before we beamed up, we heard that the lord of Qam-Chee burned his own city to root out potential traitors. Shameful."

The two men growled at Kullor. One of them said, "Shameful? This is glorious! The chance at honor in combat everywhere! We must stay here and—"

General Moghar backhanded him hard. "Have you forgotten Kahless' lessons as well? Any third-rate star power could come here and conquer this planet! And I won't entertain thoughts of staying! We are _not_ Kahless! Worse, we are not the Tyrant Molor!"

A beep sounded from the scanner console. Kullor quickly went over to it and shoved aside the substitute scanning officer. "General, spatial distortion anomaly forming ahead!"

The Hur'q? Moghar had seen the escape of the three bioships into subspace. "On viewer!"

Light suddenly appeared to pierce through the fabric of space. The light appeared to act like pliers prying through the fabric of space and suddenly a blue vortex expanded from the pierced point. Definitely not a Hur'q subspace portal. A star flashed in the dark center of the swirling vortex and a ship slipped out of the fading star, convincing General Moghar that it wasn't the Hur'q.

And apparently not Fek'lhri. The ship's divided hull/armor was painted in zigzags of black and red with white lines separating the black from the red. Fragile-looking wings curved from the bottom around the sides to support what must be their bridge above the center part of the ship. The center part between the painted hulls had an incomplete look: gray metal beams and modules. Oversized fusion engines were set in the back of the ship. Weapons similar to what the Fek'lhri had on their purple ships bristled at the sides of the curving wings and in the front of the gray center. Definitely a warship. A big one, being 1400 meters to the _Ki'tang_'s 350 meters.

"Shields up!" ordered General Moghar. They were probably here to conquer the planet. It may not be his Qo'noS, but it was Qo'noS nonetheless. This warship was just one, not an entire fleet. They could handle it this time.

Kullor called out. "We're being hailed on tachyon."

"Viewer!"

An alien appeared on the communication viewscreen below the tactical viewscreen. The alien was vaguely reptilian with mammaloid aspects. Red eyes stared from under a dull golden-tan dome mottled with black spots. Nostrils flared from under a wide nose as the alien spoke. The universal translator struggled with the new alien tongue for a while. Finally, the Klingons could understand him.

"_This is the Narn Regime heavy cruiser _K'sha Na'vas_ under command of War Leader Vin'Tok, attached to the Golden Fleet of Narn. Identify yourself and state your intentions._"

"I am General Moghar of the Imperial Defense Force for the Klingon Imperial Empire. If you claim this planet for yourself, we will fight you." The general signaled the gunner, Kazj, to prime the weapons and target the Narn cruiser.

War Leader Vin'Tok chuckled bitterly. "_We are not in a condition to claim any planet. Especially when our government doesn't exist anymore. We came to find repair supplies. We are not aware that this planet supports an advanced species or at least claimed by an empire._" Vin'Tok leaned forward, warily squinting at Moghar. "_You don't look Orieni. The only empire we know to be in these parts is the Orieni Imperium. Are you a member of a species that broke free from that broken empire?_"

"No. I don't know this Orieni Imperium. We are Klingons. This planet is Klingon. But we are not from this universe."

Vin'Tok made an expression of startled surprise. "_Truly? Like the extra-universal ship we've heard so much?_"

The Narn must be referring to the _Enterprise_ that the Federation had been wailing about. The general nodded. "You said that your government has fallen." Moghar open his lips in a toothy sneer. "Do you think to use this planet as a base of exile?"

"_No, General. I said we are not in any condition to make any planetary claims. We are fighting for the Narn Regime even if it has treacherously been conquered by the Centauri._"

Moghar raised his eyebrows. So the Fek'lhri were also as adept at making enemies in this universe as they were in his home universe. Judging by this Narn cruiser, the Narn Regime must have been an empire before falling to the Centauri. Surely, there was a resistance movement now. "The scum you speak has found an enemy in us." The general extended an open palm towards the viewscreen. "The enemy of our enemy is our friend. Are you open to an alliance with us?"

War Leader Vin'Tok grinned with gleeful surprise.

**Tower of the One Above All**

The Tower built of unbreakable black stone rose from a hill in a valley on an empty, but dangerous planet. Carvings in the black stone of the tower were reminiscent of the gothic cathedrals on Earth. Thin slender pillars supported pointed arches in the niches and dark windows of the tower while gargoyles jutted out. Close to the top, short spines that reminded knowledgeable people of spines on Shadow vessels curved upward. The top of the Tower itself was a crown of sharp horns reaching for the sky. In a room in the middle of the Tower, the light in the crystal globe set atop a short pillar in the center of the room faded.

Elric bowed his shaven head in awed respect as he glanced over the crystal globe at the figure on the throne hidden in shadows. The silver embroidery showing a mix of circuitry and astronomical diagrams on his black robe glittered in the soft light that had no source within the Tower. He was a little miffed that Galen went over his head to the very top of their order, but he could now understand the urgency.

The small still voice of the ancient figure on the throne came forth from the darkness. "The Darkness rises and has yet to reach its blackest. I cannot see if the Candle and the Star can hold against the Darkness and shine thereafter. The change that Brother Galen has shown us means the future teeters on the edge of the blade. Even I cannot see where the future might fall."

Elric was impressed. The One Above All could have used any of the technomagical tricks of creating a form of sepulchral voice. Instead, the figure on the throne used his own ancient small still voice. Elric felt grateful that Jamis, the One Above All, lord and master of the technomages, High Seat of the ruling Circle, and the only one of whom Elric was in awe, did not feel the need to use parlor tricks with him.

"Lord, what should I do? This change means we cannot know our universe anymore. I doubt we can know this other universe."

"Such pessimism, Elric."

"The Shadows know of this change and seek its secrets. You know how powerful this terrible and black storm can be. The change means the storm would become a hurricane sweeping the naked stars. The Dark One now reaches from his prison to touch the Shadows and their servants. We must begin preparations for the storm."

"Why must we? Let the abominations do what they will about this. We have chosen to hide ourselves away from both the Light and the Darkness to preserve our knowledge against potential abuses. We cannot change our decision."

Elric glanced down at the crystal globe. "One of the brethren is pushing the Circle to openly ally ourselves with the forces of the Light. Tamyrlin sees the change as a hope. What was it that Tamyrlin said? 'Without change, something sleeps inside us and seldom awakes. The sleeper must awake. We must realize our potential to serve all.'"

A small sigh sounded from the throne. "We are singers, shapers, dreamers and makers. The Shadows are the enemies of logic, the jugglers of truth and the molders of beauty." The One Above All leaned forward on his throne, revealing his ancient, yet ageless, face in the sourceless light of the chamber. Jamis' eyes gleamed with the full power of his age and wisdom. Elric, who had been a full adept for what seem to be centuries and has seen much of the wonders and terrors of the universe, cringed before that gaze. To him, Jamis was more than any of the First Ones.

"Those who fear the Darkness have never seen what the Light can do."

**City of Great Dis, Z'ha'dum (Alpha Omega 3)**

"OK, so who's this Great Lord of the Dark?"

Justin smiled tolerantly at Liria Satarah as the middle-aged man swirled the dark red wine in his glass. "He.... Well, the Great Lord is neither male nor female by any known standard. We usually use the generic male label for him. He has no true physical form. The Great Lord is outside and beyond this universe, but he can still affect us."

"If he's so great, why haven't we seen him walking about?"

Justin smiled again. Liria would be a great asset for them. "In terms that we can understand, the Great Lord is in a prison, unfairly put there at the moment of Creation. He is now able to touch the universe only through a hole just large enough for your little finger to slip through." Justin demonstrated by thrusting his little finger into a ring formed by a thumb and finger of the other hand.

"Before that, the Great Lord was only able to look out, being the Eye for Z'ha'dum. Actually, it's the clumsy way that your ship and the _Enterprise_ handled the transition into this universe that made this hole into his prison. When he finally breaks free from the prison, he will remake all the multiverses that are, can be, might be and ever shall be. Remake them all in his own image and allow those who prepared the way to rule in his name. Faithful service will be rewarded with immortality. Those of us who are chosen can be demigods."

Liria frowned, skeptical. It sounded too much like the raving of a lunatic in a cult. However, she could sense that Justin was telling the truth, but he wasn't exactly answering her question. She knew from her training on Betazed that as long as the person absolutely believes something to be true, empaths would sense only truth in that person. "You told me what the Great Lord is and what he does. Not _who_ he is."

Chuckling, Justin said, "That's not a Shadow question. The Great Lord has been called many names by the undevoted and ignorant: Father of Lies, Prince of Darkness, Sightblinder, Grassburner, Lord of the Grave, Shepherd of the Night, Lord of the Evening, Soulsbane, Father of Storms, Heartfang, Dark Lord and countless other equally foolish names." Justin tossed his head side to side as he said each name, rolling his eyes contemptuously. "The First Ones generally call him the Dark One. His true name...well, it's blasphemy to say it, but you have a need to know." Justin set his glass of wine down on the coffee table, took a pen from the table and wrote on a small piece of paper set aside for that purpose. Liria leaned forward to see what Justin has written. '_Shai'tan_'

Arching an eyebrow, Liria looked back up at the aging man sitting in the couch. That name, in various forms, was also known on the worlds of her universe. "Fine. Mr. Morden said I could speak with this...Great Lord."

Justin nodded. He gestured to the handsome human man. "Mr. Morden will lead you to the Abyss."

Morden nodded for Liria to follow him.

After climbing stairs through tunnels melted from the bedrock stone of Z'ha'dum, they came to what seem like a small maze of caverns with strange small torches burning at intervals on the walls. Mr. Morden looked back at Liria. "Keep close. You don't want to be caught by the Watcher."

"Watcher?"

"Yes. It's not recommended for any of us mere mortals to be caught by it."

They came to an entrance that looked more like a crack in the stone, only wide enough for two persons to step through. Morden stopped before it and turned to Liria. "Go through here. The Abyss is on the other side. And...the Great Lord." Wistful memory and envy crossed his face before Morden left Liria to herself.

Liria walked through the crack. Unlike the tunnels outside, this tunnel had stalactites, stone teeth hanging from the ceiling, barely brushing her hair. Odd. In front of her and behind, the stalactites hung lower than her hair, yet they somehow only brushed the top of her hair lightly as she passed under them. The tunnel suddenly opened out onto a wide stone shelf or balcony with no safety barrier. She looked down over the edge. All she could see was darkness. It seemed bottomless. She recalled a phrase from the Earth philosopher Nietzsche: 'Stare at the abyss and the abyss stares back at you.' Abyss indeed. She looked up. Above was only a hole stretching far up. But instead of the glint of the glass dome over the city above, roiling clouds that looked full of acid rain appear to rush past the opening of the Abyss, forced along by gale winds. The clouds' striations of orange, red and black mixed with occasional flashes of lightning. It reminded her of the description and appearance of hyperspace.

Liria could sense a presence, a vast intellect within that other-sky, behind...a thinness. She wasn't sure how to put her psychic finger on the sense of that thinness. The hole in the Great Lord's prison that Justin spoke of? She also felt awe and wonder. It didn't come from within herself. The wondrous awe came from everywhere in the Abyss. She waited. And waited. Liria opened her mouth to call out.

LIRIA.

Liria gasped. To call _that_ a voice was to call a supernova a candle. She almost felt like she was on a starship going to warp, but with the inertial dampeners shut off. Rapture filled her, forcing her to go down onto her knees. That...voice filled her brain again.

LIRIA. WELCOME, CHOSEN.

The Betazoid-Deltan gasped as the euphoria got so strong, it almost hurt. She twitched, sweated. Her loins were constantly on fire, burning her entire body. She strained to speak through parted lips. "Great Lord.... I...Chosen?"

THE CHOSEN MULTIPLY, LIRIA. THE HOURS TO MY DAY OF RETURN DWINDLE. THE ANCIENT ENEMY REMAINS UNAWARE. WOULD YOU SEAL YOURSELF, BODY AND SOUL, TO ME, LIRIA?

Liria hesitated. In the intense ecstasy, the hesitation seemed to last an hour. "As you command, Great Lord, so shall I obey."

SO YOU SHALL.

"Great Lord, I wish to.... I can have the galaxy know of your rapture. I can deliver _my_ galaxy. I—"

WOULD YOU ACCEPT A MELD?

Surprise was quickly washed out by the ecstasy of being in the Great Lord's presence. Somehow she knew that the Great Lord wasn't talking about a Vulcan mind-meld. "I...I...I only wish to serve the Great Lord of the Dark so that I may realize my wishes."

THEN YOU SHALL BE ANNOINTED WITH ONE WHO SAW THE FALL FROM GRACE.

Liria Satarah screamed as blinding light suddenly shone on her face. Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as the light burned into her mind, searing bliss into her very being.


	15. Dawn of the Long Night

_I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I am mired in the final days of my studies. Soon, I will move out of the country to Brazil. Worry not! While the story may be put on the back burner while I settle down in my move, I will continue it as best as I can._

* * *

"Are you sure, Ambassador?" Ivanova was slightly queasy about this. 

The Pak'ma'Ra ambassador's translator globe glowed as it spoke. "Yes, most sure. We do not mistake!"

The Drazi ambassador appeared exasperated with the situation. "The Centauri have invaded both our territories. They have an ally. It appears and disappears like a ghost. It has destroyed one of our listening posts. We hear they are planning to attack other races, other worlds. War is spreading! Soon, perhaps, they even attack you!"

Ivanova and Sheridan looked at each other with a sense of unease and dread. It could only be the Shadows. Only they could appear and disappear like ghosts in the night.

**USS _Enterprise-A_**

"What?!" shouted Captain Kirk. His eyes were positively bulging.

"Yes, sir," said Captain Sulu. He hated having to break this to his friend and former captain. "We didn't come here on our own. The Hur'q brought us here. I don't know if we can go back home. I doubt it's possible without the Hur'q's transpatial technology."

It was so cruel. To have Kirk's hopes raised so high only to be shattered by this cosmic joke. He listened to the soft noises of the bridge.

"And Jim," continued Sulu. "We didn't come here alone. We had a Klingon ship and a Romulan warbird with us."

"Romulans! Klingons! Can it be any more complicating?!" McCoy demanded.

"Actually…." Sulu turned to press in commands into a console, bringing files from his own starship over to Kirk's ship. The main viewscreen switched from a view of Babylon 5 to a recording. Centauri warships and fighters danced with Hur'q bioships. Occasionally, a Klingon K'Vort-class warship could be seen shooting at the Hur'q.

Dr. McCoy widened his eyes at the sight. "I don't know how you survived that…." The doctor trailed off when black ships appeared and purple beams began licking at the Hur'q.

"I see."

Spock carefully studied the huge vessels with spines and a black hull that moved like oil. He noticed that whenever a bright light, like the nearby Vree homestars of Zeta Reticuli, shone behind the spines, they turned almost transparent. He had never heard of such biotechnology before and that was saying a lot. "Who are they?"

Sulu shrugged. "Even the Centauri didn't know who they were. My science officers believe these aliens have been operating for quite a long time. Here…." Sulu pressed another button, bringing another file up on the main viewscreen. It was an orbital view of the ruddy scarred surface of Vulcan. Debris made a slanted line through the middle of the screen.

Kirk and McCoy glanced at Spock. As far as they could tell, Spock didn't feel anything for this planet. The doctor scoffed. It was likely that Spock was using logic to distance himself from this version of his homeworld. Sulu made one more adjustment in the file setting and the viewscreen magnified at a part of the debris line floating over Vulcan. Several of the debris were shriveled black…things.

McCoy squinted at the main viewscreen. "These look like skin left in the water too long."

Sulu nodded. "Analysis indicates the battle happened in the middle thirteenth century, Earth time." The captain of the _Excelsior_ looked at Spock, clearly expecting answers from the Vulcan. Spock obliged.

"The information obtained at Babylon 5 indicates that the Vorlon Empire, the only star nation advanced enough to have bioships, has existed for millennia, if not eons. However, the vessels you encountered do not match what vessels we could see from the Vorlons. To anticipate your next question, I have serious doubts that the residing Vorlon ambassador would provide any information whatsoever."

"What are the Vorlons?" Sulu wanted to know, since nothing like the Vorlons appeared to exist in the home universe, as far as he knew.

Spock almost frowned. Almost. "The Vorlon ambassador appears to be a form of semi-corporeal silicon-based lifeform with some impressive mental abilities. At least, that was the reading I was getting before the ambassador destroyed my tricorder from five feet away."

"You…you took a reading of an ambassador of one of the biggest local powers??" That alone would severely strain any diplomatic relations, if there were any in the first place in the home universe.

Captain Kirk nodded. "We have to be prepared. This part of the galaxy is destabilizing and the Centauri are at the center of it. These black ships at battle sites a thousand years apart. The Vorlons being as testy as Melkotians. Everything in this universe seems to be waiting for an explosion. A big one. Do you know, Sulu, that the Centauri used energized asteroids to bomb the Narn homeworld back to the Stone Age?"

Sulu stared at Kirk in shock. In the home universe, the use of such weapons would quickly convince the Federation Council and Starfleet Command to apply the rarely used power of embargo on the offending world or star nation along with a strongly-worded official protest.

Kirk looked around the bridge at the crew working. "The Centauri war with the Narn ended too quickly and too easily and they are looking for the next kid on the block to bully." He sighed. "The Federation has it easy. Peace, prosperity and the complacence that comes with them. This is not a complacent universe. Sooner or later, we will be in the middle of a galactic war and we must be ready for it. Sulu, is your ship up for a test and a reconnaissance?"

Sulu nodded. Kirk looked at Spock, turning the burden over to the science officer.

"Mr. Scott and I have been studying the use of hyperspace in this quantum reality. A hazardous type of space travel, but nevertheless used by every world capable of building orbital craft or more. We do not have the space for a hyperdrive, or jumpengine as it is called here, on any of our ships, but Mr. Scott believes we could use the main deflector dish and the power of the warp drive to open. However, we need the required element Quantium-40 or, at least, more dilithium. We are still studying the problem."

"Aye," added Scotty. "The sensor equipments and the leftovers of the Transwarp Experiment on the _Excelsior_ would give us a wee bit more information about hyperspace."

Captain Sulu said, "All right. I can go now. Where am I going? Can you tell me about hyperspace?"

Kirk handed Sulu a compadd. "All information on hyperspace is in here. And the jumpgate activation codes and beacon frequencies are here too. You're going to the jumpgate at Vreetan in the Zeta 2 Reticuli System. From there, you are to investigate our transition point."

"Zeta Reticuli…isn't that Tranome Sar in the Romulan Empire?" It would be odd to be able to go into what was supposed to be Romulan space without any harm. Of course, there were the Centauri to worry about.

Scotty nodded. "Aye. It would take 12 days at Warp 9 through 50 lightyears of space." The Scotsman smiled mischievously before continuing. "Hyperspace cuts that down to eight days at _low impulse speed_."

Sulu stared. Warp 9 could only be maintained for hours at best, and that was with the new technologies acquired from the failed Transwarp Experiment. He could already see the implications. If he could use the warp drive in hyperspace he might be there in mere hours. Too bad the Federation couldn't get this technology.

A beep sounded in Pavel Chekov's console, attracting everyone's notice. The Russian called out, "Jumpgate activation."

Scotty nudged Sulu. "Watch. Ye will like this."

The main viewscreen abandoned the view of ruined Vulcan and showed the jumpgate activating. A vortex exploded into existence and a large dark gray boxy vessel slipped out of the swirling blue vortex. The middle section of the vessel slowly moved in its centrifugal work.

Sulu was amazed. If only they could bring this technology back to the Federation. The vessel was huge but appeared bulky with none of the smooth aesthetic lines of Starfleet vessels. The message was clear: it was a warship, pure and simple. The lighted label on the warship was in an English script. _EAS Agrippa_. He looked back at Scotty in surprise.

"Aye, Sulu. It's an Earth ship. Amazing, isn't it? No gravity, but whatever they could get from centrifugal force."

Sulu wished he could stay and study this Earth ship instead of going into hyperspace. "Well, I better prepare my ship for this mission."

Kirk nodded smilingly. "Spock and Scotty will go with you. We can take care of ourselves here."

**Babylon 5**

Sheridan was a little uneasy. Instead of the usual simple EarthForce transport, this MiniPax representative used an Omega-class destroyer as a taxi service. He put on his diplomatic smile as two men appeared on the landing ramp. One of the men, surely the MiniPax representative, was Frederick Lantz. The last time they spoke was when Mr. Lantz relayed the orders to seize the _Hakudo Maru_ and put its people under arrest. His smile slipped before he covered by saying, "Welcome aboard, gentlemen."

Mr. Lantz smiled warmly and extended a hand. "It is a pleasure to finally come to the famed Babylon 5." Lantz turned to the slightly shorter man with black hair. "This is Ken Welles. He is the co-director of NightWatch for the Ministry of Peace."

Mr. Welles nodded. "When I heard that Mr. Lantz was heading to Babylon 5, I thought I would come along and check on the status of NightWatch out here."

Sheridan and Ivanova stole quick side glances at each other. He hoped that they were here only for the Centauri problem. He could imagine Garibaldi scoffing skeptically. "Well, then, Mr. Welles, you are also welcome. This is Commander Susan Ivanova, my XO in charge of station operations. Come right this way and we will show you to your quarters."

Ivanova nodded as they walked out into a corridor. "I must say, I'm relieved to see you. I was afraid Earth was never going to get involved in the Centauri problem."

Lantz laughed heartily. "We can't stand by forever, you know. Our voice has to be heard!"

Mr. Welles said, "Well, it never hurts to get a first-hand look and see what's really going on out here. Just to be sure we're doing the right thing."

Lantz leaned closer to Sheridan. "I will need a room where I can meet with the Centauri ambassador and interview any other ambassador that has a problem with the Centauri. Any ambassador at all, including the latest addition. It will need to be private."

Sheridan nodded somberly. "Already done, Mr. Lantz." The Centauri were certainly not the only people that MiniPax was concerned about. Captain Kirk and Director T'Sara should be warned.

xxxxxxxxx

Londo's patience was nearly gone when the computer finally gave a chirping signal. It was finished downloading into a datacrystal. Plucking the crystal out of the computer console, he called for Vir.

"Vir, take this crystal and guard it with your life!"

Vir nervously took the conical datacrystal and rolled it in his fingers. "Wh…what is it?"

"Ah, Vir, you shouldn't know. We won't have a telepath picking the information out of your bungling mind, won't we?"

Eying Londo suspiciously, Vir knew that he was not going to carry the crystal on his person all over Babylon 5. He wasn't sure if his friendship with Londo made him immune to the ambassador's brand of the Great Game. "What do I do with this?"

"Vir! Didn't you hear what I said? Guard it with your life! Until you give it to the Lady Timov, of course."

"L...l...Lady T-timov? She's coming h-here?" Vir's last encounter with that woman was not at all pleasant. He decided to rearrange his entire schedule to give himself the least chance of meeting Timov more than once.

Londo sighed as he got up from his seat to the window facing the garden of Babylon 5. "I weary of you ever being able to read between the lines. You're going to Centauri Prime and drop this crystal directly into her lovely hand." The ambassador turned around to Vir. "I want you out of here. For a few days at least. But beware Timov! She's a malignity. Malignity commands respect, not fondness. She has the natural ability to make ordinary people become acutely aware of their own intellectual and moral shortcomings. I don't want you to be reduced to a gibbering idiot at the Royal Court."

Vir was feeling annoyed at this reminder. He had already become acutely aware of this when Timov and Londo's two ex-wives came to Babylon 5. He bowed to Londo and turned to leave the baroque quarters. He had a ticket to Centauri Prime to purchase.

"And Vir…. You know…Timov's name, spelled backward in the Earther language, is 'vomit.' Do not try kissing up to that." Londo laughed as Vir's face blushed hotly and the attaché quickly left.

xxxxxxxxx

Delenn gazed at the stars from the observation rotunda. There. The jumpgate activated, opening a yellow vortex into hyperspace and that extra-universal starship moved cautiously towards the open jumpgate. Unlike most other ships in this part of the galaxy, it was all geometric shapes. A thought crossed her mind that the Vorlons should have liked this outward sign of order. Upon crossing the threshold of the vortex, the white-blue starship elongated and vanished into hyperspace. The vortex collapsed.

She turned to the human in that strange but obviously military uniform. The burgundy color of the uniform tunic reminded her of the red wine that Earthers seem to be fond of drinking in formal functions. "Captain Kirk, what do you call that ship?"

Kirk smiled at the stars. "The _Excelsior_. She's a beauty, isn't she?" He turned to the woman who seemed to be a Minbari-human hybrid. She claimed that her biological parents were entirely Minbari and she was evasive and reluctant to go in depth about how she can to be hybridized. "But, Ambassador, I prefer my ship, the _Enterprise_, anytime, any day."

"I do not claim to understand the human insistence in applying gender to what is essentially an inanimate space vehicle. Among my people, only the warrior caste treats our ships as anything more than ships. But no gender, merely…giant swords for them to wield. This preference for a particular ship…. I've also noticed it among humans. Captain Sheridan has expressed a longing for his former ship, the _Agamemnon_."

As far as Delenn knew, only the Vorlons had similar sentiments for their ships, but it was with very good reasons.

Kirk arched an eyebrow in a very Spock-like way. Delenn may be a representative of an alien species whose star nation that fought a genocidal war with Earth about 10 years ago, but Kirk could recognize a fondness beyond friendship anywhere. He felt it for Spock. Still…he couldn't imagine the circumstances that would overcome barriers set up by such a war. "Yes, Ambassador. It is said that a captain's primary love is his starship. There's a saying among the Maori, an ancient seafaring people on Earth's Pacific Ocean. 'A ship is alive. Treat her well and care for her properly and she will fight for you against the Father of Storms.' Or 'him' if the captain happens to be a woman and do not prefer the female sex."

"A saying that the Minbari warrior caste would think is wise." Delenn's eyes glittered mischievously.

A man dressed in a fighter pilot's uniform entered the observation rotunda. "Ah…. Oh, Ambassador." The man nodded a greeting at Delenn and turned his attention to Captain Kirk. "Captain, I'm Lieutenant Warren Keffer, leader of Zeta Squadron."

Kirk smiled brightly. "Ah, the elite fighter squadron. Even though in my Starfleet, fighters are limited to starbase and planetary defenses, I can see that your squadron's performance is exemplary."

Lt. Keffer grinned lopsidedly. "Thank you. I'm actually here to ask…. Your universe has many alien races, right?"

"Yes…."

"I wonder if you know of a race with ummm…a kind of ship that's…jet black. A shade of black so deep your eye just kinda _slides_ off it. And it shimmered when you looked at it. A spider big as death and twice as ugly. And when it flies past, it's like you hear a scream in your mind…. I'm sorry this must sound silly to you."

Kirk and Delenn shared a glance. Kirk knew just what this Lieutenant Keffer was talking about. Delenn appeared carefully neutral. Too carefully neutral, Kirk thought. "Lieutenant, I don't know any race with the kind of ships you describe. Your description may sound familiar to the crew of the _Excelsior_."

Delenn's eyes showed surprise, but her face was carefully schooled to show no emotion. Kirk, having known Vulcans, could catch the surprise in the Minbari ambassador. Keffer's face brightened with hope for more information.

"However, the ship has just left. You will have to wait to ask them. You can make an appointment with our ambassador."

"Yes, sir." Dejected, Keffer turned and left the rotunda.

Kirk peered at the Minbari ambassador. Delenn must have known about what Keffer was talking about. "Do you know what he's talking about, Ambassador?"

"I have not seen any ship that fits his description." She smiled. "And Captain…call me Delenn."

"If you'll call me J—James." Kirk smiled back. He had been about to give her the privilege of calling him 'Jim' but he didn't trust her that much yet.

**USS _Excelsior_**

The inertial dampeners struggled to cancel out the constant vibration in the _Excelsior_ as hyperspace battered the starship with gravity waves and eddies. Already, Sulu and the bridge crew were feeling the early stages of Hyperspace Travel Syndrome as dizziness and nausea came while they studied this dimension. They couldn't tell whether they were going forward, backward, sideway, up or down, so Captain Sulu ordered the main viewscreen shut off and the crew now had to rely on sensor readings. Even so, the starship's sensors were reduced to 20 effectiveness by hyperspace. Anything beyond that range meant the ship detecting an annoyingly high number of sensor ghosts.

It was fortunate they had all those sensor equipments from their last mission of studying gaseous and gravity anomalies.

"Are we ready?" Captain Sulu asked Captains Spock and Scott.

"Aye. Any more of this insane hyperspace and I canna guarantee a spotless deck for you." Scotty pressed a hand to his ponderous belly as he turned away from a monitor showing the roiling cauldron of jumpspace. His face had a decidedly similar tint as Spock's face. "Ach, I've felt spacesickness before, but this is ridiculous. It be more like seasickness!"

Sulu made expressions of sympathy. He made a mental note to order Dr. Altos Viger to create a supply of anti-HST Syndrome medicine. He pressed a button in his chair. "Sulu to Engineering."

"_Engineering here._"

"Mr. Gabler, take us to warp one. Slowly."

"_Aye, aye, sir._"

A warp bubble slowly formed around the Federation starship within hyperspace. The bubble wavered, deformed and reformed as it was constantly assaulted by gravity waves and eddies of the roiling red hell. The starship's maneuvering thrusters kept firing to correct its own position and course.

Lieutenant Commander Devon Gabler ran as alarms wailed in Engineering. Steam suddenly spewed from a conduit next to the warp core and a new alarm wailed. Gabler shouted for other engineers to attend to the problem and everyone pulled their masks from their environment collars onto their faces. The Chief Engineer slammed an intercom button hard enough to hurt his hand. "Captain! We can't keep this up! The stresses of hyperspace are too much for a stable warp bubble." Yet another new alarm rang out. The computer announced that the reactor chamber is in danger of irradiating itself. "Sir!"

"_All right, Gabler. Shut it off. Switch to impulse, but keep the enhanced structural field. _" Disappointment could be heard over the intercom. Gabler let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. At least, the impulse engines would allow the starship to go faster than local ships. Turning from the intercom, he shouted at the engineers clad in white radiation suits.

**Babylon 5**

Citizen G'Kar looked as if he was about to burst out of his clothes with excitement. His red eyes bored into the eyes of another Narn on the StellarCom monitor. "Oh, WarLeader Vin'Tok! This is the first good news I've had since the occupation began! You will call for any other surviving ships?"

"Already done, Citizen. The _G'Tok_, commanded by Na'Kal, just came in. The new alliance is already doing wonders for us. I'm the current military leader of the Narn Resistance, but we will defer to you, of course. You are the only free member of the Kha'Ri left."

G'Kar bowed with arms crossed on his chest. "Thank you, Vin'Tok. Captain Sheridan just informed me that a representative from a section of the Earth government called the Ministry of Peace is here to investigate the Centauri."

The Narn WarLeader leaned forward to peer across countless lightyears at Citizen G'Kar. Hope bloomed stronger on his red eyes. "The Earth Alliance is ready to take sides?"

"I really hope so! If Earth joins in the new alliance, we'll be able to force the Centauri out of our space! G'Quon bless us all, Vin'Tok. I must go and catch this representative before he leaves the Council Chamber if we are to bring a taste of Homeworld's fall to Centauri Prime!"

xxxxxxxxx

Ken Welles smiled as he accepted a datacrystal from a female member of NightWatch. He raised it to look at how the light refracted through the crystal. "Your patriotism will be noted and rewarded."

The woman nervously glanced over her shoulder as if someone was about to burst through the door to Mr. Welles' guest quarters. "Ummm, I'm still not sure about this. I could be breaking the chain of command by giving you this without my superiors knowing."

Welles raised an eyebrow and looked down at the woman. "Feeling guilty about your service to Earth?"

Her face reddened. Welles grinned brightly and reassuringly. "Do not worry. The fact that you feel so strongly about following your superiors shows promise for our struggle against the encroaching corruption touching our Motherworld. This is why we are called NightWatch, for we keep watch in the night against the potential rape of our Motherworld."

A chirping beep sounded from the communication monitor. Welles turned to the sound. "Ah! Just in time. I've been waiting to catch it off ISN and you're lucky to see it with me!" The woman beamed in pleasant and proud surprise as the NightWatch co-director ordered BabCom to open the channel. The image of President Morgan Clark came onscreen. The president of all humanity was speaking at a podium in front of the Earth Senate. Above and behind him hung a huge sculpture showing the planet Earth protected by a laurel wreath. Rising out of the top of Earth was a hand gripping a stylized torch. The golden silk cloth behind the sculpture was arranged in radiating folds to make Earth appear more like a sun than a mere planet. A shining beacon of humanity scattered among the stars.

"…_everybody denounces violence. Violence, such as the recent Istanbul-Geneva Train Bombing, will end as we end the war. Violence will end as we end hunger and poverty on Earth. If we are to remain strong in the face ofadversary, the same scum that has always assailed the goodness of humanity will give up as the Minbari gave up when they came up against our human determination at the Line…._"

Mr. Welles ordered BabCom to record the rest of the president's speech. "As you can see, my dear, we must be firm and determined."

"But what about—"

"Do not worry. I am sure it's fine. After all, the Captain, the one man who survived battle with the Minbari, will understand and applaud your patriotism."

The woman sighed in relief. She gave thanks to Mr. Welles and left his quarters. The NightWatch co-director gazed again at the refracting beauty of the datacrystal. They were fortunate to have a technician of Babylon 5's Command and Control as a member of NightWatch.

xxxxxxxxx

Ambassador Miranda Jones was walking down a corridor when an alien appeared out of nowhere. However, the bubbling thoughts of excitement warned her long before the alien appeared.

"Ah! The ambassador from the other universe! I don't know how an ambassador can represent an entire universe…. Anyway! Where are you going on this fine day?"

Miranda thinned her lips. Such impertinent positivity. She'd already heard of G'Kar's odd…fascination for pale-skinned females. The jewels in her sensor net gown glittered in the light as she bowed slightly. "Citizen G'Kar. I'm going to see Mr. Lantz."

"So am I! Might I have the pleasure of your company to the Council Chamber?"

Miranda carefully and primly held out a hand for G'Kar to carry on the way to Mr. Lantz. Soon the entrance into the Babylon 5 Advisory Council Chamber came into view, and they entered. Mr. Lantz was just finishing with the Brakiri Ambassador Lethke. Lethke glanced at the new arrival and gave a bright encouraging smile. Lethke shook hands with Lantz and left.

"Mr. Lantz," Ivanova said. "This is Miranda Jones, Ambassador of the United Federation of Planets."

Lantz studied the extra-universal woman and studiously ignored G'Kar. Her fashion of dress was elegant, if a bit too rich for a mere ambassador. There was something odd about how Miranda looked at him. Sure, her attitude screams unavailability for any date. Somehow, when she looked at him directly, she wasn't _seeing_ him. A characteristic of her alien species?

"This…it's amazing how human you look, Madame Ambassador. You might as well be Centauri if not for your hair."

Miranda looked as if she wasn't sure whether she should feel insulted or tolerate the Earther's ignorant arrogance. "It is because I _am_ human, Mr. Lantz."

"You…I apologize. You don't seem like someone who came from Earth."

Miranda's lips pulled into a smile of pride as she stood straight. "Perhaps it's because I spent most of my young life on Vulcan for studies on the mentalic science."

"Mentalic…?" Lantz peered at Miranda suspiciously. It didn't sound like something you'd have in a Tibetan monastery.

"Telepathy, Mr. Lantz."

Lantz stared at Miranda in shock. He wasn't the only one as Ivanova and G'Kar looked at the Federation ambassador. Both Earthers unconsciously took a step backward. Ivanova slammed down all the blocks she could have at hand even though she sensed no scanning at all.

A teep! Lantz's diplomatic smile slipped. A teep as an ambassador, a government official! It was every true Earther's fear. As far as Earth knew, only the Orieni used a telepathic government and the Centauri broke their empire in a war at the beginning of the twenty-first century.

Unfazed, Miranda turned to G'Kar. Irony dripped from her voice. "I presume I was summoned here to discuss Federation relations with Earth. And that you are here to investigate the Centauri. I feel that the Centauri wars are currently more important than…." Her lips twisted into an ironic smirk. "my mind. This is Citizen G'Kar of the Third Circle of the Kha'ri and formerly Ambassador of the Narn Regime."

G'Kar opened and closed his mouth, then shook himself out of thoughts of pale-skinned telepathic women. "Yes. Well. Since you are here to investigate the situation with the Centauri—"

Lantz decided to avoid the topic of telepathic ambassadors for now and focus on the relatively easier problem of the former Narn ambassador by interrupting G'Kar. "Uh, well, yes, within certain guidelines."

"Thanks to the Federation ambassador's generosity, I could speak to you for just five minu—"

Lantz interrupted once more, earning a frown from Miranda. He spoke rapidly. "No, I'm afraid that's not possible at the moment."

Miranda stepped forward. "Citizen G'Kar has legitimate—"

"No!" Lantz nearly shouted at Miranda. He was now backing away from the telepathic woman, seeking to get out of the Council Chamber. "A teep! We'll deal with the situation later!" He swiftly turned about to step through the entrance. "Commander?"

Ivanova gave an apologetic look at G'Kar and a nervous glance at Ambassador Miranda. G'Kar stared at the shrinking back of Frederick Lantz with frustration.

xxxxxxxxx

"Thank you, Captain." The Vulcan woman called T'Sara dipped her head in grateful respect. "We appreciate your promise of sanctuary." The commscreen went dark. Even as the last of the light faded from the dark monitor, Frederick Lantz barged into C&C with Commander Ivanova and Mr. Welles in tow.

"Captain Sheridan! I hear you have been running fighter exercises all week. Mr. Welles tells me you are using Centauri combat models!"

A female technician cautiously peeked over her shoulder at the group. Sheridan was now looking concerned. "How did you find—"

Lantz abruptly raised a hand to stop Sheridan. "That's not important! Is it _true_? Have you been teaching your forces to _fight_ the Centauri?"

"Well, with everything that's been going on, it seemed prudent."

"With that pirate ship sitting so comfortably over there? No! No, this must stop at once! This jeopardizes _everything_, my _entire mission_!"

Ivanova stepped in, looking puzzled. "I don't understand. You were sent to investigate the Centauri."

Lantz looked at Ivanova, then at Sheridan with exasperation. "Yes! I had to look at the situation before I could proceed. However, I'm satisfied with what I've seen. I've contacted EarthDome, and they have authorized me to proceed."

Sheridan had had enough. He was illegally ordered by EarthDome to seize the _Hakudo Maru_. He had been hoping that the Earth would take sides against the Centauri, thereby uniting the League of Non-Aligned Worlds against not only the Centauri, but also for the coming war. And now to have this arrogant MiniPax pen-pusher come here and humiliate him in front of the entire C&C…. "Proceed with _what_?"

Mr. Lantz puffed out his chest with pride. "I'm here to sign a non-aggression treaty with the Centauri. Before I leave here, there will be an Earth-Centauri alliance that will guarantee peace for Earth! We _will_, at last, know _peace in our time_!"

As Sheridan and Ivanova gaped in surprise, Lantz held up a datacrystal. "Now, Captain Sheridan, you are ordered to send a signal into hyperspace."

**USS _Excelsior_**

Captain Sulu squinted at the main viewscreen, trying to spot the light that would be a Centauri battlecruiser. While the Hyperwarp Experiment didn't come through yet, going at maximum impulse had cut the hyperspace travel time to Vreetan down from eight days to two days. Of course, the high speed meant the stresses of jumpspace nearly tearing off a warp nacelle, but Scotty, being the miracle worker he was, fixed the problem in time. Once out of the Vreetan jumpgate, the starship warped out of the system to the transit point.

And now, the Centauri were maintaining a small fleet at the transit point. It was frustrating. They were staying out of tachyon sensor range so they couldn't get a detailed reading of where they had first transited into this universe. Sulu was momentarily tempted to strike up an alliance with the Vree and come back with a fleet of battlesaucers at his back.

An alarm chirped from the Tactical station and Lieutenant Akaar returned from the General Situation station to look into it. "Captain, sensors are detecting a ship…. I don't know if I should say it's decloaking."

"Onscreen."

A triangular ship, reminiscent of 21st century Earth delta-wing military aircraft, had appeared out of nowhere. There was no characteristic shimmer of a cloaking device. It was smaller than a Federation Sydney-class starship, only 30 meters long. It was also completely black. Sulu glanced back at Akaar. "Organic?" The Capellan man shook his head.

Then it was not a member of those terrible black bioships. Hopefully.

Janice Rand gave a surprised squawk. "Captain! They're hailing us on subspace!"

This universe _is_ full of surprises! "Visual!"

The main viewscreen switched from the image of the sleek delta-wing black ship to that of a…field of unblinking stars. Confused, the bridge crew blinked at each other while Janice checked her instruments to make sure the communication channel was actually open. Then a face appeared as a black hood was raised. An oddly alien human-looking face gazed from inside what was now clearly a hooded black robe.

"_I am Galen, Technomage. Very few have forced me to have difficulty tracking them. You are one of those few._" Galen smiled. Oddly, it was a kind of smile that added to, rather than detracted from, the seriousness of his face.

"I'm Hikaru Sulu, Captain of the Federation—"

"_Starship _Excelsior_. I know, I know. You _are_ fond of lengthy introductions. Didn't you hear what I said? I tracked you all over my universe. I bring an urgent warning. The _Enterprise_ and_ Hakudo Maru_ are in danger. Go back to Babylon 5._"

Sulu was skeptical. Kirk and T'Sara could take care of themselves. "But…."

"_Captain Sulu, you can't do anything about the puncture in the circle, not with a Centauri fleet there. But you can do something about your sister ships._"

Puncture? Did this odd man mean there's a hole between the two universes? Hope rose in Sulu. "I…. Thank you, Mr. Galen."

"_Please. Call me just Galen. Or Mr. Technomage. Or Good Samaritan. Or Good Sam. Whichever suits you. I prefer Galen. Your continuum distortion drive, amazing as it is, is simply not fast enough. A return trip to the Vreetan Jumpgate would take too much time. Allow me to open the door for you._"

"But…the hyperspace navigation beacons…."

Galen sighed. "_Must you be systematic in the middle of a crisis? Then again, it helps to keep options open. Options that my universe desperately needs. My ship's navigation system does not need hyperspace beacons. Let me be your guide to Babylon 5._"

Sulu nodded. It was a big step to trust this unknown stranger, but if this 'technomage' was telling the truth, Kirk may need his help.

A jumppoint opened and the _Excelsior_ went back into hyperspace, then the technomage vessel followed through, its black hull now glaringly obvious against the yellow of the jumppoint. Once gone, the jumppoint collapsed.

**Babylon 5**

Once the damnable Frederick Lantz and Ken Welles left after making sure he sent the signal into hyperspace, Sheridan barked an order at Lieutenant Corwin. "Open up a channel to Captain Kirk! We've got to get them out of here fast!"

"Online!"

Sheridan anxiously leaned onto a console as he looked at the commscreen. "Captain Kirk, you must leave. Take the other ship and go to your planet at 40 Eridani."

Captain Kirk frowned and sat up straight, looking more like an admiral than a captain. "_We have had enough of attempts to hound us out of your space. Why should we leave when u claim this is neutral space?_"

"Someone's coming! Can you…use your distortion drive now?"

"_Distor…? Oh, the warp drive. Yes, but…._"

Ivanova shouted, "Jumpgate activating!"

Sheridan was surprised to see a Centauri Primus-class battlecruiser jumping out of the gate, closely followed by two Vorchan-class attack cruisers.

Corwin glanced up from the pit. "Centauri battlecruiser is demanding we turn over the _Enterprise_ to their custody!"

Sheridan had expected EarthForce to use mercenaries, like Raiders, black ops vessels, or allies like the Lumati or even the Ch'Lonas. He was even afraid it would be EarthForce itself coming. But the Centauri…? "Stand by! Keep this channel open! Get me Ambassador Mollari now!" He anxiously looked at Ivanova. "What's Captain Smith doing?"

"The _Agrippa_ is turning to face the Centauri. No open gun ports. So far."

"I gave the Newcomers my word that we could protect them as long as they're in our jurisdiction. I'm not about to break that promise! Launch Zeta Squad. Tell them to surround both ships!"

"Scrambling fighters. Both? You think the Centauri might take the _Hakudo Maru_?"

Sheridan shrugged uncertainly.

Corwin was nearly stabbing his own head with his communication headset. "I've got Ambassador Mollari on the link!"

Frederick Lantz barged into C&C, furious. Didn't MiniPax have anyone who doesn't barge in, doesn't get outraged all the time? Ministry of _Peace_, hah! "Captain! Captain, what are you doing?! I've just heard—"

"The treaty hasn't been announced or formalized yet. I promised them sanctuary!"

"And once again, you're jeopardizing everything I've worked for! This is getting to be a habit!"

Sheridan had more than enough about MiniPax. "I'm sorry! Will someone please escort Mr. Lantz off the command deck?" A technician took Lantz's arm and almost dragged him out through the door. At least there was someone who wasn't too loyal to NightWatch.

Ivanova looked up from her console. "Zeta Squadron ready for launch!"

"Launch!"

After making sure he could see the pinpricks of fighters making their way to the extra-universal ships, he turned to Corwin. "Ok, put Mollari through!"

The Centauri ambassador glared at Sheridan from the monitor. He was feeling slighted by the delay in seeing Sheridan. The décor behind Londo suggested that he wasn't in his quarters, but in his personal liner. Sheridan drew his lips back in a sneer. He'd heard that the ambassador's ship was designed to withstand most forms of assassination, including a station blowing and crumbling around the ship. Londo had been expecting this little Centauri surprise.

"_Captain Sheridan! You will turn the _Enterprise_ and its crew of murderers over to us at once!_"

Controlling his anger at Londo, Sheridan evenly said, "The Newcomer starship is under my protection. I have guaranteed the right of free passage. I've assigned a squad of fighters to escort the cruiser safely out of Babylon 5 space. Once it's out of Babylon 5 space, it's no business of ours. You tell your ships to withdraw at once! If they open fire on _any_ of our fighters, I _will_ respond with _deadly force_! End!"

Londo was opening his mouth for a retort when the monitor went dark. Sheridan ordered Corwin to send a copy of the transmission to the Centauri warships. "Then activate defense grid." He hoped that the Centauri wouldn't open fire. It would be madness with over a million lives at stake, and it would start many new wars across Known Space. Even the Centauri were not powerful enough to avoid the fate of the Dilgars. Especially when the station carried the Minbari and Vorlon ambassadors. He hoped to God that the Centauri realized this.

xxxxxxxxx

"The Centauri are arming weapons. Lasers, particle pulse, ion cannons, the works," reported Commander Chekov. "And sir, Babylon 5 is arming weapons. Particle weapons, laser, and plasma cannons. Ciwilian and commercial wessels are clearing the area."

Federation shields could easily handle lasers, but those other weapons could do damage. It was a good thing that their ion cannons fired only focused shots of ion or Federation starships everywhere would be in trouble. The main viewscreen showed the Zeta Squadron fighters taking positions around the _Enterprise_ and the _Hakudo Maru_.

Uhura looked over her shoulder, holding her earpiece. "Captain, they're demanding we surrender and to prepare to be boarded."

Captain Kirk waved a finger at Chekov. "Send our apologies. Raise shields and arm all weapons. Order the _Hakudo Maru_ to leave the system."

"Arming weapons," complied Chekov.

"Mr. Redpath, keep us between the Centauri and the _Hakudo Maru_."

"Aye, sir."

"_Captain Kirk,_" Sheridan said through the still open audio channel. "_Fighters are in position. Can you make it out of the system?_"

"I think I'll stay." Kirk was determined not to let the Centauri chase him all over the galaxy. It was a good thing that Spock was away on his mission.

"_Your choice, Captain._" Sheridan clearly sounded like he'd prefer to have Kirk follow T'Sara in flight.

"Keptin!" The Russian tactical officer sounded anxious. "The Centauri are targeting _Enterprise_, the fighters and Babylon 5!"

Uhura shouted, "Director T'Sara is offering her ship's defenses."

"Belay that. Order her to take the ship away from here…." Kirk trailed off as he studied the main viewscreen which was now showing the three Centauri warships slowly advancing.

Chekov reported, "They're locking and firing!"

The Centauri Primus battlecruiser unleashed a barrage of energy weapons, half at the Federation starship and half at Babylon 5. The two Vorchan attack cruisers swiftly advanced in an attempt at a pincer maneuver, all the while, shooting at the _Enterprise_ and the Babylon fighters.

xxxxxxxxx

"Interceptors, fire!" Sheridan watched aghast as the Centauri barrage reached for Babylon 5 and the _Enterprise_. The interceptor cannons knocked down most of the incoming energy bolts. He didn't think the Newcomer starship had interceptors.

Then he saw the Centauri energy bolts splash against a heretofore invisible energy barrier in front of Kirk's starship.

The Newcomers actually didn't need interceptors.

Then red bolts shot from the white starship in retaliation. Ivanova gasped in surprise. "Captain! They have a direct lock on the Centauri gun ports! An _accurate_ lock!"

Indeed, some of the red bolts found their marks, while others were forced to glance off by the Centauri gravitic shielding. And the warships were _moving_!

Sheridan squinted, trying to see the _Agrippa_ hanging in space, apparently doing nothing. He frowned. They had been informed that the destroyer was under orders from MiniPax to take no action at all. Not even to protect a station filled with over a million lives!

"Captain," said Corwin. "The _Enterprise_ is requesting you move the fighters away from it to give it room to maneuver."

"Order Zeta Squad to move off, but keep the Vorchans away from the _Hakudo_."

The _Enterprise_ swiveled on its axis and made a slingshot maneuver around a Vorchan, firing a torpedo at its rear. The photon torpedo detonated spectacularly, destroying the Vorchan's engines, putting it out of the action. Many of the Centauri weapons missed the starship as it moved. Fighters dodged weapons fire and returned fire. The other Vorchan managed a shot at the _Hakudo Maru_, but the red ship was similarly protected by an energy force shield.

No wonder EarthForce wanted those ships. Sheridan could now see how the shield technology could make Babylon 5 a stronger fortress against the coming darkness. He was horrified and angered when another barrage from the Primus managed to get past the interceptors and blasted through one of the projecting booms of the Forward Stabilizers of the null-grav cargo bay.

Sheridan had had enough. Before he could angrily order all guns to open fire on the offending Primus, phasers and photon torpedoes flew from the _Enterprise_, hitting the Primus with full force. Two torpedoes found their way under the belly of the Primus and impacted on the tapering gravity-generating tail of the battlecruiser. The Primus soon listed, trailing debris and plasma.

xxxxxxxxx

"Sir!" shouted Chekov. "Reading a matter/antimatter reactor core breach on the lead ship!"

All too quickly, the battlecruiser became flames and debris flying in all directions. The _Enterprise_'s shields sparkled as debris rained upon it.

Shocked, Kirk watched as the fire faded in the extreme cold of space. So many dead due to himself in this universe already. And many more would die, if he couldn't help it. Thankfully, his precious starship wasn't too damaged. Just the shields in the yellow zone.

The still functional Vorchan turned its wrath onto the tiny starship that had dared destroy a battlecruiser of the Great Republic. It came in firing all weapons. Babylon 5's weapons switched target from the destroyed battlecruiser to the attack cruiser. Lieutenant Keffer ordered all fighters to attack and block the rushing Vorchan. The _Enterprise_'s shields glowed as they bore the brunt of the weapons fire.

The starship's sensors detected something, forcing Chekov to be distracted. He could ignore it, but small troubles had a way of growing if unheeded. Seeing what the sensors were telling him, he was surprised. "Keptin! The Earth wessel, the _Agrippa_, it's arming weapons!"

"Finally!" Kirk felt that the Earth destroyer was very late, but better late than never.

"But, sir, they locking on _us_."

"_What?!_"

Uhura pointed at the main viewscreen. "Sir!"

The jumpgate activated once more and spat out another Earth Omega-class destroyer. It immediately opened gun ports and opened a channel to everyone in the Epsilon Eridani System.

"_This is Captain Yuan of the Earth Alliance ship_ Ares_. The crew of the _Hakudo Maru_ is under arrest for piracy, destruction of EarthForce property, the murder of EarthForce personnel, the aiding and abetting the escape of a prisoner, resisting arrest in the Janos System and the transport of contraband. According to the terms of the Earth-Centauri Non-Aggression Treaty, the crew of the _Enterprise _is under arrest for the murder of Centauri nationals and the destruction of Royal Navy property. Do not interfere. Repeat, do not interfere. Do so at your peril._"

Uhura caught yet another system-wide open announcement and put it on speakers.

"_This is Captain Sheridan, commander and military governor of the Earth station Babylon 5. This is Babylon sovereign space and diplomatic neutral space. The treaty is not announced or formalized yet. You do not have jurisdiction in this space. Repeat, you do not have jurisdiction. These ships have the right of sanctuary in Babylon space. I have just been instructed by the Babylon Advisory Council that the League of Non-Aligned Worlds has extended its formal protection over the _Enterprise _and the _Hakudo Maru_ and their crews. Proceed and you risk causing interstellar incidents with the members of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds._"

There was a hesitation over tachyon and Kirk tensed. Then: "_Negative, Babylon 5. Negative. Earth does not acknowledge the League's protection. It has not been formalized with the Earth Alliance. Stand down, Babylon 5, or face a court martial and be charged with the illegal shelter of criminals, treason and sedition._"

Captain Kirk was horrified. Could this be the first firing shots of a civil war in the Earth Alliance? It's not his Earth, but damn it, civil war between humans is a human civil war! He'd heard rumors about terrorism on Mars and Earth, but this is a fight between Earth military personnel and he's causing it! He needed to do something to prevent that. The last internecine conflict in Kirk's humanity was the swift Martian Revolt resulting in the Fundamental Declaration of the Martian Colonies in 2065, two years after First Contact.

"Uhura! Open a channel to all ships and Babylon 5! This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship _Enterprise_. Babylon 5, we can handle ourselves. _Ares_ and _Agrippa_, we will defend ourselves. You know what happened to the Centauri. I beg you to reconsider this action."

The _Hakudo Maru_ was now aiming its pointing nose at the _Ares_. Sensors showed the red Surak-class ship arming weapons and locking onto the Earth destroyer. The anxiety level on the _Enterprise_'s bridge went up a few notches at that. If Director T'Sara allowed herself to be pressured by her people's hatred of EarthForce, especially that guilty warship, Kirk would have to choose sides in an Earth civil war and bring the League of Non-Aligned Worlds into the internecine conflict. It would be extremely messy.

The surviving Centauri Vorchan opened fire on the _Enterprise_, lighting up her shields. Kirk held on for balance in his command chair.

"Jumpgate activation!" shouted Chekov. He now dreaded the wondrous wormhole-like opening of the vortex into hyperspace. The jumpgate had so far spit out hostile warships. A star appeared to flash in the dark center of the swirling blue vortex and a white-blue vessel came out quickly. And it was closely followed by a tiny delta-wing black craft.

"It's the _Excelsior_!" Ensign Redpath shouted with relieved excitement.

Captain Sulu's starship fired waves of photon torpedoes which reached past the Earth destroyers, briefly reddening the gun-metal gray armor of the Omegas, and hit the Centauri Vorchan. Captains Smith and Yuan of the _Agrippa_ and the _Ares_, respectively, were surprised to see that the Federation torpedoes' range extended so far and were so accurate.

The Vorchan attempted to evade, but the torpedoes were able to track the attack cruiser. A series of explosion began to rip the Vorchan apart.

"My God…," whispered Uhura sadly.

A final wave of photon torpedoes tore into the Vorchan and a final explosion converted the attack cruiser into a rapidly expanding fiery cloud of gas and spinning debris. The vertical wings of the Vorchan now spun dangerously in space.

Kirk ordered Uhura to reopen frequencies to the Earth ships and station. He had to be strong to prevent a greater tragedy than the present battle. "That ship belongs to my Starfleet. Do not think of attacking it or the _Hakudo Maru_. The _Hakudo Maru_ is a Federation civilian research ship under protection of Starfleet. If two Earth warships couldn't overcome the defenses of a mere research vessel, they can't handle two _fully_ armed Federation Starfleet vessels. Can you dare to repeat the mistake at Janos 7 in full view of the known worlds?"

After a while of tense watching, the two Earth destroyers turned around and maneuvered around the _Excelsior_ and Galen's little black ship, entering the jumpgate into hyperspace. Various forms of relief were expressed throughout the Epsilon Eridani System.

xxxxxxxxx

Captains Kirk and Sulu walked past Lantz and Welles. They glared at each other as the Starfleet captains entered Sheridan's office, the Earthers with wounded pride and the Federationers with contempt. Sheridan was calming himself down from the argument with Mr. Lantz over his actions concerning the extra-universal ships and the Centauri.

John Sheridan quickly wore an expression of shamed apology. "Captains, I'm sorry about the nasty surprises the jumpgate has been springing on us…." Sheridan thought bitterly, _And I still have one more apology to do, courtesy of the Ministry of Peace!_

Captain Kirk grinned. He had his own surprise to spring on Sheridan, courtesy of Spock, Scotty and that odd 'technomage' Galen. "Life is full of surprises. We gotta catch 'em all or we all fall down. Speaking of which, we have a proposal to prevent future surprises…."

xxxxxxxxx

"_Zeta Leader. Any idea how long we're supposed to stay with this thing?_"

Lieutenant Keffer glanced out his fighter's windows at the gleaming chromatic mini-station hanging in the maelstrom of hyperspace. Occasionally, automatic thrusters maintained its anchorage at this specific spot hidden by wisps of hyperspace gas. It was a scanner buoy provided by the Newcomers to detect ships approaching the Babylon Gate. Apparently, the large device used some other method than tachyon to scan accurately and much farther than tachyon scanners could. Keffer replied admonishingly, "Just until we're sure no one will find it and take it."

An alarm beeped on Keffer's control panel. The leader of Zeta Squadron perked up. "Computer, what've you got?"

"_Registering unusual changes in local hyperspace matching provided specifications. Neutrino emissions up eight percent._"

Keffer was excited. Finally, he could prove to all that the story of the Ghost in hyperspace is true. _A spider big as death and twice as ugly._ "This is Zeta Leader. Breaking off to investigate something. Stay with the scanner buoy. I'll be back."

Another fighter pilot's voice filtered out of the speakers. "_Confirmed._"

Lieutenant Keffer instructed his fighter to follow the trail of neutrino emissions, hoping to catch his quarry of the mystery black ship that murdered Commander Galus when they were helping the Earth explorer ship find its way back to Babylon 5.

xxxxxxxxx

Most of the ambassadors on Babylon 5 were gathered in the Zen Garden for the expected formal apology from Captain Sheridan to Ambassador Mollari. They conversed in small groups, one of the largest being comprised of League ambassadors around Captains Kirk, Sulu and Spock, and Director T'Sara. Ambassador Mollari scowled at everyone else as the others gave him a wide berth. Away from the group, Delenn and Lennier stood with Ambassador Kosh who was intently studying the Federationers. Hidden in the shrubs of the garden was G'Kar. Unseen by all, hidden in the garden plants, was the technomage Galen, eavesdropping and recording everything by holding forth a small frosted glass ball on his open palm.

"Ambassador Kalika," Spock was saying. "We are most grateful for the formal announcement of League protection for us. When we can, we will return the favor for the League worlds, especially the rare harmonious peace of the Abbai."

The Abbai ambassador bowed and ignored the looks of envy on the other ambassadors for the Federationers' special attention for the Abbai. "Thank you, Captain Spock. We do what we can to have peace among the stars."

Hearing that, Delenn and Kosh looked at each other and, coming to a silent agreement, Delenn led the Vorlon ambassador to a secluded part of the Zen Garden.

Spock said, "Perhaps a League summit could—"

The noise of an explosion caused everyone in the station's garden section to look up at the core shuttle. A shuttle car was already burning and raining debris and they could just see a man falling out of the shuttle. It was Captain John Sheridan.

"In Valen's Name!" Delenn whispered in horror.

Kirk snatched his communicator out of his belt and opened it. "Kirk to _Enterprise_! Lock on Captain Sheridan and beam him out!"

"_Captain, we don't have a lock on Sheridan! There's too many lifesigns on the station and he doesn't have a biolocator on him._"

"Fine! Just beam every human within meters of the explosion on the Core shuttle!" Kirk watched as Sheridan made an expanding spiral around the core as the Earther captain fell in a straight line and the ground centrifugally spun around the station's axis at 60 miles per hour.

"_All right, sir. Narrowing transporter lock now._"

Spock leaned over to whisper to Kirk. "Captain Sheridan has thirty seconds before the impact on the ground kills him."

Kirk yelled into the communicator. "Hurry!"

Then a golden light covering a core of intense blue-white light rose out of the tree line of the garden. Various forms of surprise and awe overcame the gathered ambassadors.

"Valeria!"

"Droshalla!"

"G'Lan!"

Kirk, Sulu and Spock looked up with the others and stared at the glowing form. The vision wasn't as clear for them as it was for the others. It was more like a humanoid figure hidden within a cloud, some features peaking out now and then. Once in a while, it seemed as if the figure became an amorphous core of ice-colored light. It reminded Kirk of the Organians and the Thasians. The general impression of the being within the light was that of an angel. A hairless human angel.

Spock whispered, "Kir'Alep…."

Captain Sulu also whispered. "Ninigi…."

Even though the ambassadors' rapture was sincere, Kirk could hear confused skepticism and uncertainty in Spock and Sulu. He remembered Spock's tricorder reading of the Vorlon ambassador: _"The Vorlon ambassador appears to be a form of semi-corporeal silicon-based lifeform with some impressive mental abilities."_

Was the ethereal being of light Ambassador Kosh? Kirk felt uneasy, even afraid. The Organians and the Thasians were limited to one home star system, as far as the Federation knew. An entire interstellar empire of Organians…. No, the Vorlons were more like the testy Melkotians than the Organians. Melkotian-like aliens controlling an empire with a greater volume than the Federation, the Romulan and the Klingon Empires. If the Vorlons were truly like that angelic being now approaching Sheridan, he would have to tread carefully around the Vorlons.

A voice crackled out of Kirk's still open communicator, startling him out of his reverie. "_Initiating transport._"

The glowing golden being was reaching out with both arms, huge translucent wings rippling out of flowing fluttering white-gold robes, then starlight covered Sheridan. The Earth captain vanished. The angelic being appeared startled. Quickly covering up, Kosh pointed up, as if heavenward, and appeared to stare knowingly straight into Kirk's eyes. The angel moved to another area of the garden where the Vorlon ambassador could sneak back into his encounter suit unseen.

xxxxxxxxx

Captain Sheridan smiled. "Thank you, Captain Kirk, for that unusual…rescue." Transmat technology! He'd heard of the Vree dimensional slip technology, but even the Minbari disdained that technology which was severely limited by energy demands and the requirement of stationary locations. To find that there's a technology that was a hell lot more flexible than the slip tech…. He was sure the universe would change drastically at that fact. Although he wasn't too sure about the method itself. Being taken apart at the quantum level didn't sound too appetizing. As soon as he returned to his quarters, he had taken an extremely thorough self-examination in the shower.

Delenn bowed, smiling her thanks at Kirk. She was also troubled by the Newcomers' teleportation technology. The implications were far-reaching. Perhaps it was a good thing she didn't align the Minbari Federation against the Newcomers. Added to force shield technology, the Newcomers could easily capture ships and conquer worlds, yet they chose not to. She sincerely hoped the Centauri or any of the servants of the Shadows couldn't get their hands on those technologies. "Thank you, James. Perhaps it is…prudent for you not to utilize that form of travel in public."

Kirk waved off Delenn's gratitude and concerns. "We handled the Centauri and the Earth warships, didn't we? I'm sure no one would want to tangle with use after this."

Sheridan nodded. "The whole station is talking about what happened. Every race that was in the garden saw something different, yet the same! A being of light!" He gave a wry smile. Transmat technology! "A being of light that took me out of this universe entirely. Maybe to heaven or to another universe and I came back. Like the angel Gabriel did with Muhammad the Prophet. What a miracle!"

Delenn conceded. "Yes. Each according to his or her type."

Kirk peered at the Minbari ambassador suspiciously. "But it was Ambassador Kosh, wasn't it?"

Delenn nodded. How did he know? Didn't he get a similar rapturous reaction to seeing Kosh in the flesh? "Captain Kirk, I am sure John needs his rest. We will…discuss matters with you later."

The Starfleet captain frowned at Delenn, miffed at the dismissal but gave a diplomatic smile and nod. Once he left Sheridan's quarters, Delenn turned to Sheridan, smiling but with a look of seriousness in her eyes. "John, we have matters of import to discuss ourselves…."

**USS _Enterprise-A_**

"Say," said Dr. McCoy. "Who is Ninigi?"

"Oh," replied Captain Sulu as he glanced at the returning commercial traffic on the main viewscreen. "He was a _kami_, a divine spirit sent to Japan by the sun goddess Amaterasu. He brought a sword, a mirror and a jewel to create the imperial regalia for his grandson, Jimmu Tenno, the first emperor of Japan. His Attendants became the first Shinto priests.Did the Vorlons visit our Earth?"

McCoy shook his head. "If they did, why was the vision so blurry to us, yet so clear to the locals?" Shrugging, the doctor turned to Spock. "And who is Kir'Alep?"

"An ancient Vulcan god of peace and acceptance. Legends claim that he came down from the sky to help Surak succeed in spreading his philosophy on my homeworld and end the dangerous internecine warfare tearing my people apart." Spock wore a look of speculation on his Vulcan gaunt face.

It would appear that the Vorlons visited many worlds in this universe and conditioned the indigenous species into having a favorable view of them.

Spock wondered…. Did the Vorlon Empire have a counterpart in their home universe?

* * *

"_And it came to pass at the end of the Babylonian Earth Year 2259 that there was wailing and gnashing of teeth at the wicked alliance between the dark princes of Earth and Centauri Prime. The banners of war were raised and the independent worlds were assailed as the Darkness rose to dim the very stars, and the Dark One broke through his Seal to lay his dread hand upon the worlds lit by these stars. Women wept and men quailed as the nations of the stars were rent like rotting cloth._

_Even as the first horseman called Conquest passed, leading those deceived by the temptations of conquest and riches thereof and the second horseman announced the coming of War, hope was born in Babylon the Great. The Blessed Sheridan was taken, as the angel Gabriel took the prophet Muhammad on ancient Earth, for enlightenment. It was learned in Babylon the Great that where the universe has shed one tear, it would weep thousands. Let the tears flow, O Great Babylon, the last best hope for victory. Weep for your salvation!"_

—_from _The Breaking of the Seal_ by Lyssa Deradi of House Jaddo, Counsel-Sister to Lucco Deradi, High Governor of Immolan 5 for the Serene Republic of Centauri Prime, year of publication unknown.

* * *

_

You tuned to the ISN channel, wondering about the rumors of battles and miracles at Babylon 5, and the voice of the newscaster floated out of the snowing static on your vidscreen. "_…when our ship found a distress beacon attached to an EarthForce recording device…._"

The static cleared up. It was a gun camera footage from Lieutenant Keffer's fighter. A huge black ship of thorny spines was clear against the roiling redness of hyperspace. To you, the ship looked like it was made of crude oil. The organic look made you think of the legendary Vorlons and you wonder whether this alien species was as advanced and powerful.

"_These images, released exclusively to ISN, were found on that recording. Strategic analysts in EarthDome have indicated they don't know who this new race might be, but promise to find out._"

The terrifying black ship wheeled about, firing a purple beam. Static abruptly filled your vidscreen as the purple beam appeared to swing to touch the camera.

* * *

_President Clark's speech to the Earth Senate is based on a speechin there-election campaign of President Richard Nixon concerning 'bums' (university students, especially the protesters at Kent State and Jackson State) in 1970._


	16. A Spider in Hell

_We´ve never seen David Endawi, the EarthForce investigator, interview other ambassadors. I´ve expanded a bit on his investigations. I hope you like it._

**

* * *

**

**Imperial City, Centauri Prime, during the events of "Dawn of the Long Night"**

Vir Cotto waited in the atrium of the city residence for House Mollari. A fountain bubbled under a ceiling open to the sky. Pillars supported the ceiling while tapestries, paintings and statues decorated the entrance atrium of this palatial mansion. Vir once more wished he was back on Babylon 5.

A servant finally appeared through a curtain covering a doorway. The wizened man announced, "The Lady Timov, daughter of Lord Algul, first and sole wife of Lord Londo Mollari, Ambassador for the Great Centauri Republic, High Seat of House Mollari, and—"

"Oh, go away!"

The old servant bowed his way back through the curtained doorway. The short Centauri lady, once called a Malignity and vomit by Ambassador Londo, critically looked up and down at Vir. She pursed her lips at what she saw, making Vir grow even more nervous. "Humpf. Stuffy propriety. Don't you have something for me?"

Vir's eyes widened as he held his hands up over his chest. "Wha.... I...don't...."

Timov rolled her eyes heavenward, as if beseeching the Great Maker to grant her mercy. "Not _that_, Vir. Men! Do they always think like that? I mean the crystal. Have you forgotten already? Give me it!"

Vir fumbled inside his coat and fished a conical crystal from a pocket. The datacrystal soon dropped from his hand into Timov's open outstretched hand. Timov then held the datacrystal up to the light. She inspected how the light refracted through the crystal. She pursed her lips once more, causing Vir to wonder what flaw the lady caught in the crystal.

Timov sighed exasperately. "I have never had any interest in the vagaries of politics and social climbing. That was more...the field of my former sister-wives Daggair and Mariel. But, here I am, holding a copy of Londo's Purple Files!"

Vir gasped. The Purple Files! Every Centauri house worth its salt collected dirt and secrets on each other for generations, if not centuries. It was said that House Mollari's Purple Files had enough dirt to ruin the entire Centauri Republic. And he had been carrying them all the way from Babylon 5!

Timov carelessly tossed the crystal onto a standtable. Vir's eyes bulged. So careless! Anyone could find it and take it, and ruin their whole society! Timov gave a faint smirk at Vir's reaction. "We are busy. I can look at it and use it later."

"W-we, madame?"

"Yes. Busy. We. I wonder why you were assigned to Londo, though it doesn't take much brains to see how superior he needs to feel." She held out a hand for Vir to pick up. "Come. We have been invited to the Royal Court. A lady does not go anywhere without a man to escort her."

"T-t-the R-royal Court?" Vir fearfully took a short step backward. Even on Babylon 5, he'd heard rumors about the new Emperor. "I...I thought I'd just go back.... Londo needs me..."

Timov tsk-tsked. "Londo can handle himself for a few days. Here! Take me to the Royal Palace. It should be an education for you. And for me, if I am to carry out dear Londo's...instructions."

xxxxxxxx

Vir was overwhelmed by the whirlwinds of the Royal Court. So many lords and ladies to meet, nearly all of them trying to gain the Emperors favor. Nearly all dismissed Vir, apparently thinking him as not a threat to either themselves or to their houses. Nearly all appeared to work hard on maintaining facades of friendliness around Lady Timov. That was exceeded only by their attitude around Cartagia himself.

Vir was scandalized by Cartagias appearance and bearing. Such short hair on the emperor! As if Cartagia was a menial peasant worker rather than _the_ Emperor! And dressed as if he was visiting a nightclub rather than presiding over the Royal Court itself!

And there was Lord Antono Refa standing beside the throne as if he was the prime minister and looking smug. Vir didn't like him. He was a much darker version of Londo and that was dangerous for the Republic.

Then Cartagia reached a hand behind one of the four white-veiled telepath women flanking the throne, causing her to start and take a short step forward. Vir bulged his eyes and choked on the brivari he was sipping. Turning away from the sight of the chuckling Emperor to avoid offending the Imperial Personage, Vir made sure he didnt make a mess on his court dress.

"Great Maker!" he whispered to himself. "Harassing the Emperor's Own!" He felt someone looking at him. Frightened that some courtier caught his careless words, he looked up. Words had power at court, especially the power to send someone to the headmans block. He recognized the person looking straight at him through the crowd. He felt like choking again.

It was Lady Morella. The late Emperor Turhan's third wife and prophetess. The Voice of Turhan herself. Vir felt like running for a commscreen and ordering jars of valium from Earth.

Lady Morella glided to Vir, the crowd of lords, ladies, servants and courtiers parting easily around the famed widow of Turhan and aunt of Cartagia. She smiled, radiating strength rarely seen in a Centauri woman. "Don't worry. I share your sentiment. When Cartagia was young, a boy before his Rite of Ascension, really...." She leaned closer conspiratorially to Vir, her expression turning into one of distaste. "I once found him in bed with a sister and a cousin."

Vir frowned. "Isn't that...normal? Family bond and all that.

Morella smiled at Vir's naivette and shook her head. "They were naked."

Vir stared at Lady Morella, speechless. She said, "Might I have the honor of knowing your name?"

Vir found it difficult to breathe. As Garibaldi would say, was she for real? Was she going to report him? An image of his head on a pike flashed into his mind. To cover up his expression of terrified horror, he bowed low. "Ah...m-milady. Its Vir. Vir Cotto."

"Ah yes. Vir...attache to Ambassador Londo Mollari, isn't it?" Morella laid a hand on Vir's hand that was holding the tiny glass of brivari. Upon touching his hand, Morella gasped and closed her eyes.

Concerned, Vir peered closely at Turhan's widow and nervously glanced around. Someone could mistake her reaction as an effect of a touch-poison. Fortunately, no one was looking.

Morella labored to keep her expression under stern control so as not to betray anything. "Vir Cotto. If you would live in the light after the darkness, you must be stupid."

Unsure whether he was being insulted, Vir blinked and glanced down at the dark redness of the brivari in his glass. He never liked that color. It was too...bloody. "I...do not understand."

"People think you are a fool. Exaggerate your nervousness, exaggerate your insecurity, exaggerate whatever makes people think you are foolish and you will survive."

Vir was feeling very stupid at this moment. Perhaps Lady Morella should sit and exchange notes with Lady Timov. He merely gave a blank look at the widow of the late emperor.

She sighed and pointed at a man at the edge of the crowd. The man, dressed in elaborate court clothes looked foolish, nervously picking at the food laid on a table and making foolish lopsided grins at those who looked at him. His eyes looked nervous yet vapid. Vir wondered if he was looking at a mirror of himself at an old age. Morella whispered, "Foppish, isn't he? That's Milo Virini, Minister of Protocol."

"Minister? _Him_?"

"Exactly. No one takes him seriously, but he has outlived almost all who dismissed him. And he will outlive others like Ministers Vitari and Chorlini. He's your role model, Vir. Watch and learn." With that, Lady Morella vanished into the crowd.

A loud cough attracted Vir's attention toward the throne. Cartagia was making a face of annoyance at a lord who was having a coughing fit. Seeing the Emperor's displeasure, Lord Dugari hurriedly covered his mouth with an ornate silk handkerchief and made his way deeper into the crowd. Lord Antono Refa, who was standing beside the throne, frowned and smirked at the same time.

Lady Timov suddenly reappeared beside Vir. She stood on her toes to whisper into his ear. "Vir, something's happening at Tolonius VII. The Court doesn't know what, but listen for anything related to House Tavari."

Vir nodded, uncertain about whether he could do that. House Tavari held the Tolonius System fief and therefore responsible for the Republic's main shipyards there.

The crowd quieted when Cartagia stood up from his throne. Lord Refa appeared puzzled at what the Emperor was going to do. Lady Timov didnt appear to know what Cartagia was going to do, looking as puzzled and concerned as Refa.

The Emperor of the Great Centauri Republic spoke.

"Friends! The Great Republic, as you all know, is rising again! A grand empire on the way to being the Lion of the Galaxy once more! A golden star dawns on the galaxy! But such a renaissance is not without sacrifices. Our prisons now overflow with criminals not fit for the slave market! We cannot tolerate such a state of affairs anymore. As a solution, I proclaim _Sha'je_!"

The crowds murmur indicated puzzlement and confusion. Lord Refa, however, was looking nervous and his shifty eyes were now gauging the crowds reaction. He knew what that meant.

"Yes.... It is fitting that we should look to the beginning of our Great Republic, to the early Emperors for a solution." Cartagia's eyes gleamed and one corner of his lips curled almost dementically. "To the old _god_-emperors! _Sha'je_, as some of you may have missed in your history lessons, is a traditional way of getting rid of prisoners and criminals through public duels. A duel of two people, each armed with two daggers in their hands. Each left-hand and right-hand dagger is tipped and edged with a slow-acting poison. Rare was it that a clear winner ever emerged in the old days!" Emperor Cartagia clapped his hands with glee. "The cost of the Great Republic's glory should be entertaining! I invite all of you to the Amphitheater of Gon for the first sha'je duel of my reign! Come!"

The crowd's noise became one of nervous anticipation as the Royal Guards swung open the doors of the Grand Hall of the Royal Court. As would be traditional, the Emperor had already gathered carriages pulled by dromes at the front gates of the Royal Palace for his guests.

Vir looked into Timov's eyes with a sick feeling. This...sha'je duel didnt sound too entertaining to him even though he applauded such an important personage as the Emperor for trying find a solution for prison overpopulation. The Amphitheater of Gon was a circular open-air theater or small stadium built in honor of Gon, the god of soldiers, and used for public games and executions in Imperial City. Every major city in the Republic had such an amphitheater. Then Vir Cotto and Lady Timov were swept along by the crowd making its way to the grand doors.

Vir wished he could use one of Earth's old game phrases and shout over Timov's head at the Royal Court, "Time off!"

xxxxxxxxx

Shouts, cheers and jeers filled the deep crater-like setting of the amphitheater as Vir watched from his seat close to the Imperial Box. Lady Timov was watching with an expression of stoic disapproval beside him. In the sand-covered arena, two Narns were facing each other off, each armed with two daggers that glinted in the Centauri sun. Already, both of them had short lines of blood all over themselves, their clothes torn by the fight. One wore red and the other green. Vir knew that each wound meant a poisoned injury. The red Narn lept forward, slashing with a dagger, quickly slashing the green Narn's thumb. The wounded green Narn dropped his left-hand dagger, unable to hold it.

Snarling, the green Narn kicked at where the attacker's legs met. Screaming, the red attacker doubled over. The audience of Centauri nobles and commoners screamed their approval, many of them laughing at the cheap trick.

Emperor Cartagia was positively sitting on the edge of his seat, his face an expression of thrilled excitement. He shouted, "If that's a Centauri, he would kick at his chest!" Laughing at his own joke, he fell back into his throne, kicking his legs in the air. The court sycophants gathered around laughed with the Emperor. A Royal Guardsman appeared at the Emperor's side, urgently calling for the Imperial attention. "Sire, news from Babylon 5—" But Cartagia impatiently waved the guardsman off, prefering to have his full attention on the sha'je duel in the arena. Vir was watching it all, feeling queasy.

As the doubled over red Narn was groaning at his pain, the green Narn jumped in, seizing the opportunity of the kill. But his jump met the moaning red Narn's dagger in the stomach. Angered by his mistake, the green Narn allowed the dagger to remain in his stomach and stabbed at the kneeling Narn's other arm, forcing him to drop his free dagger. Pulling the dagger out of his stomach, the green Narn used his thumbless hand to yank the red Narn's chin up to the sky and deeply, quickly slashed his neck. The red Narn gurgled and coughed, and collapsed on the bloodied sand of the arena while the green Narn held his dagger up to Emperor Cartagia. Wounded and poisoned as he was, the green Narn soon dropped to his knees to die slowly beside his dead fellow countryman.

Vir couldn't take the sick excitement anymore. He fainted in his seat, his hair crest making a fan covering Lady Timov's bare upper part of her bosom.

**USS _Enterprise_, a day after "Dawn of the Long Night"**

Captain Kirk watched as the main viewscreen filled with the whirlpool-like vista of the open jumpgate, and felt his starship and himself stretch out into hyperspace. Immediately, the _Enterprise_ began shaking in the gravity currents and eddies of hyperspace. The inertial dampeners kicked in, reducing the stressful shaking into a mere vibration. Kirk remembered trying out a stimulation of a passenger aircraft from the turn of the 20th and 21st centuries at Starfleet Academy as part of the history courses. Hyperspace made his starship vibrate and jump like an airplane. He decided he didn't like that.

He turned to look at the mysterious human dressed in a black robe. "Where is this Bel-Nar?"

The bald human waved a hand in the air. "Ah, it's in the Arcturus Sector. 150 lightyears or so away. You said you need more dilithium crystals. Your Mr. Scott told me that trilithium is a byproduct of dilithium after high energy passes through the crystal. I remember seeing in my travels trilithium compounds in the markets of Bel-Nar. It would have been better and quicker to just go to Centauri Prime and buy some dilithium from the mines on the planet's second moon, but obviously, the Centauri Republic is closed to you." Galen gave Kirk an admonitory smirk.

Kirk's face darkened. He didn't like being reminded of mistakes and broken up relations. "Well, with our impulse engines, the trip through jumpspace should be quick enough."

Galen grinned at Spock who stared back and then went back to his science instruments. He looked back down at Kirk, eyes agleam with recognition of the emotions involved between the two Newcomers. "Amazing what people would come up with if they want to go as fast as possible. The trip should indeed be fast enough, seeing how you don't need the hyperspace beacons anymore."

Kirk frowned again at Galen's underlying meaning. This...'technomage' irked him, but he was useful. He was generous enough to allow Scotty and Spock to tie the _Enterprise_'s navigation system to the hyperspace navigation system of Galen's...what did the technomage call it? Ah! A no-ship.

He wasn't sure he understood the definition of a no-ship. He wasn't sure Spock did either. A ship that was there, yet not there either, and capable of shifting between the two states. And it was sitting there, barely fitting in the shuttle bay.

"All right, Mr. Redpath and Mr. Chekov. Keep the shields up. Make as straight a path to Bel-Nar as possible in hyperspace and take us to maximum impulse."

**Babylon 5, a week later**

David Endawi of the EarthForce Special Intelligence Division looked at Delenn with concern, then looked back at the record playing on the wall monitor as he spoke. "Ambassador, our research division has been studying this record for the last ten days. It's hard to gauge size in hyperspace, but it's big and it's powerful, and it's totally unknown to us. It attacked and killed one of our pilots. It's clearly from a highly advanced civilization."

Sheridan and Ivanova exchanged glances as Endawi gazed at the repeated play of a spider-like black ship moving in the red maelstrom of hyperspace. The intelligence agent turned back to Delenn, taking in the two Babylon 5 officers in his look.

"We are downplaying this at home, trying to convince the public that we know what it is, where it's from, and that we're not worried. But _we don't have a clue_. And we _are_ worried. The public knows about those new ships in Babylon 5 space and they don't need another possibly dangerous unknown. My job is to find out what you or any of the other races know about this ship."

Delenn bowed her head in a formal expression of apologetic regard. "I'm sorry, Mr. Endawi, I wish I could be of some help to you, but this is the first time I've seen a ship like this."

Endawi frowned. He had hoped that since the Minbari were one of the oldest of the races, they would know something. "You're sure? Take a good look."

Delenn got up from the office sofa, crossed the room and watched as the recording repeated again and again. Even though it was merely a recording, she superstitiously kept herself at arm's length away from the wall monitor. Her eyes flashed with emotion at the sight.

_In Valen's name, it IS them. Just like the old records described._

Delenn composed herself, schooling her face to show indifferent neutrality. She turned back to Endawi and said, "Yes, I'm quite sure."

Endawi turned to the two officers. "I assume nothing like this has entered Babylon 5 space lately?"

"No," answered Sheridan. "Something like _that_ I'd recognize."

"You sure it's not connected in any way to those extra-universal ships?"

"I seriously doubt that. If it is, the Newcomers would have called in that ship for help against the Centauri and...." Sheridan grimaced here. "...and EarthForce."

Endawi nodded, mistaking Sheridan's expression as distaste for the Newcomers. "All right, that's reasonable. Well, I shouldn't have expected to hit it right off the bat. I'll need to speak with all the other ambassadors about this, Captain, strictly on the q.t. Of course, I would ask the Newcomer ambassador, but PsiCorps couldn't spare anyone at this moment. For my safety, of course. This may take a while, so if you could find me a place to stay...."

Ivanova stepped forward. "That's already taken care of. If you'll just follow me."

"Thank you." Endawi turned to regard Delenn. "Ambassador." Then he left Sheridan's office with Commander Ivanova.

Sheridan stood from his chair and walked around his desk to watch the wall monitor with Delenn. Her closeness comforted his nervousness about EarthDome and the spidery black ship.

"A few months ago, you told me about an ancient race. The Shadows. This is one of _theirs_, isn't it?"

Delenn nodded and Sheridan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He had been worried that the black ship was connected to the Newcomers, even came from their universe.

Perhaps it would have been better that way.

Delenn looked into Sheridan's eyes, feeling out his emotions in them. "I'm sorry I could not tell him the truth. But our only chance is in allowing the Shadows to think we are unaware of their return while we prepare our own forces."

"But you said you've never seen one before!"

Delenn took a breath. "That part was true. _Descriptions_ of these ships have come down to us from the last Great War, but I have never actually _seen_ one until this moment. These ships—once they target you, they never stop, never slow down, never give up until they have destroyed you! They are nearly invincible." She wondered about the Newcomers. Have they fallen to the Shadows' temptations yet? If they are Darkfriends, servants and minions of the Shadows, the forces of the Light should tread carefully around the Newcomers. Captain Kirk did say that the _Excelsior_ had some knowledge of the Shadows....

Sheridan frowned at Delenn's words. He remembered the Yolu ambassador saying that Minbari never lie, but the truth they say may not be the truth you think you hear. "I don't believe that. Every ship has a weakness."

"Believe what you will, until experience changes your mind." Pointing at the monitor, Delenn continued. "Take a good look, John, and remember it well. _That_ is the face of our enemy!"

The spiny black ship wheeled around in the red hell of hyperspace once more and its purple concentration of destruction swept towards Lieutenant Warren Keffer's Starfury and the image dissolved once more into snowy static.

xxxxxxxxx

David Endawi came out of Ambassador Londo's quarters, shaking his head. Useless testimony! Seeing the black ship in a _dream_ of all things! Turning a corner in the corridor, he nearly bumped into two aliens. From his work in EarthForce Intelligence, Endawi recognized them as a Yolu and a Markab.

Amazing. A Markab. From all accounts, the Markab people should have been extinct, but those...interlopers from another universe saved them.

"Ambassador Fashar, how are you feeling?"

The Markab ambassador said, "As well as I can be! My world teeters on the edge of civil war. The Markab Provisional Government is having difficulties with rebels on the colony world of Faile Jah. A good thing I hasn't been recalled to Homeworld! So, yes, I am feeling fine!"

Endawi had the grace to look embarassed. "I'm sorry about that. Earth is doing all it can for the Markab people. Perhaps I can put in a word with EarthForce about your problems."

"No. It is an internal matter. No military. Just food and medicine."

"All right then. Can I see both of you in my quarters?"

The Yolu ambassador spoke up. "We know of which you seek. The ship in hyperspace."

Endawi began to look hopeful. The Yolu were said to be a starfaring people for about three thousand years, far longer than even the Minbari. And the Markab were also in space for a long time, although a few centuries shorter than the Minbari. "You know, ambassadors? What is it?"

The Yolu glanced at Fashar. "We see what Earth media show and tell of. Warn your government. Warn of shadows in the night. They mean darkness at noon."

Fashar smiled at Endawi. "Please excuse my friend. He is quoting, more or less, from his people's sacred scripture. I do not know the ship that your media showed. But descriptions have come down to us from a thousand years ago. The owners of that ship are the masters of the Soldiers of Darkness."

Endawi looked skeptical. "Soldiers of Darkness?"

"Yes. My world was part of an alliance that fought in a war. Soldiers of Darkness almost ruined my world before their masters left."

The Yolu added, "My people have walked among the stars for so long. But even so, we were frightened of the power of the Darkness. It was the power to disrupt the Coo-tah. The Coo-tah surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together. The Darkness seeks to break that binding. Shamefully, we tried to withdraw from that alliance. One of those in the alliance, the Tak'cha, punished us for our weak will. Since then, we would not look for the Darkness. Better for the Light to burn our souls than the Darkness to touch us. Earther, beware of shadows dancing among the stars."

Fashar said, "The forces of Darkness do not move openly. They work through others. Use others. When the Darkness was defeated long ago, they scattered, hid themselves in secret places, and waited. Now, the dark hand is reaching out and recalling them from their sleep."

Endawi nervously thanked the ambassadors and quickly walked away. These aliens may be ambassadors, but putting such testimonies in his report would seem the ranting of a madman. But he must put their words down nontheless. Especially the Yolu's. Such an old people. EarthForce had tried to figure out the Yolu weapon technology which included the molecular disassociator but they had failed to achieve that powerful weapon. Can a people so old become...senile? Endawi didn't like that thought. If the aging process of a people reflects the aging process of a single person, God save the universe from the Minbari going senile.

And now for the ambassador of another ancient and powerful star nation. The Vorlon Empire.

xxxxxxxx

Wearing a breather mask, Endawi stood before a door among the mists of the alien sector of Babylon 5. "Ambassador Kosh, can I speak with you?"

Silence.

"Ambassador? Earth urgently needs to speak with you."

Finally a noise came out of the speaker beside the door. The sound of...a windchime? "You do not know who you are."

The Earth representative stood straight and puffed out his chest even though Kosh couldn't see him. Could never know with the Vorlons' legendary high technology. "Of course I do! I am David Endawi, EarthForce Special Intelligence Division."

"A puppet of puppets. Follow the strings and the truth will hold perils."

Endawi was feeling frustrated at the Vorlon ambassador. _This_ is the ambassador of the legendary Vorlon Empire? He scoffed. He didn't have time for his intelligence to be insulted by arrogant aliens! He quickly went to the airlock dividing the alien sector from the rest of the station. Just as the airlock cycled close behind Endawi, the door to the Vorlon diplomatic quarters opened and Kosh gazed at where Endawi had been.

**USS _Excelsior_**

Lojur frowned at what he was seeing. Now this was unusual. "Sir? An Earth shuttle and a Minbari flyer are departing Babylon 5 and making their way to the jumpgate. Together."

Captain Sulu leaned forward in his command chair. Usually in this universe, aliens avoid each other in traffic except at great need. "Mr. Akaar?"

The Capellan security officer checked the sensor readings at Tactical. "Bioreadings show the occupants to be Captain Sheridan, Commander Ivanova, Ambassador Delenn, Lennier and another unidentified human."

Sulu stroked his chin as he watched the shuttle and flyer enter the open jumpgate and disappear into another dimension. There must be a great need indeed. "Ms. Rand. Send the information to _Enterprise_. Send on subspace in normal space toward Bel-Nar and on tachyon through our sensor array in hyperspace. Keep adding the array's reading of their direction in jumpspace to the message."

**Babylon 5**

Morden took out a small black device and set it on Londo's coffee table. "Since you feel strongly about going our separate ways, I wanted to be sure we understood the terms of our separation." The handsome human sat down in Londo's sofa as he activated the device through a small remote control. A hologram of a slowly rotating galaxy appeared in the air above the low table.

Londo noticed that it had none of the gaseous blurs of normal galactic maps. Every star in the holographic map was clear and distinct. Had Mr. Morden's associates explored and charted every parsec in the galaxy? The Royal Admiralty on Centauri Prime would love to have its hands on this holomap device. Of course, that would mean those associates turning their power onto the Centauri worlds, so he wouldn't think of stealing the device at all. Morden continued to speak as the holographic galaxy rotated as if it was a living thing.

"Ah, here we are! This area over here is for the Centauri." A fence of flame burned through the holomap, separating most of one spiral arm from the rest of the galaxy. The stars of this fenced off area turned green. Londo was pleased to see that all of the stars ever held by the Republic throughout its long history were contained within that area. And many more that were not explored or charted yet within and beyond Known Space.

"Conquer all the worlds you like. We won't bother you. As long as it's understood that _this_ area is ours." Morden pressed the remote control again and a second flaming fence replaced the first, this time enclosing the rest of the galaxy outside the indicated Centauri sphere of influence and the stars enclosed turned red. Londo squinted at the holomap. Could Morden's associates truly include the Minbari Federation _and_ the Vorlon Empire within their own sphere of influence? Troubling....

"You can take anything in your area, and we'll have everything we want over _there_."

Londo had one concern about the inequity implied in the holomap. "What guarantee do we have that your forces will not decide to turn around and attack us?"

"None. Ambassador, we both know what promises and treaties mean. All I can tell you is we have what we want. The rest is of no concern to us."

Londo mulled that answer over in his mind. While Morden's answer made sense and seemed honest, it sounded a little too much like what Lord Refa once said to him. _"Treaty? Ink on a page!"_ With this much space assigned over to the Centauri, it would take the Royal Navy and the noble Houses centuries to Centaurize all the worlds contained in that space.

"Done! We go our separate ways, and we owe each other nothing."

Morden flashed his white teeth through a smile, looking glad of Londo's capability to understand. "Of course. _Oh_! One small exception hardly worth mentioning...this world?" He pressed the remote control once more and a pinpoint of starry light began flashing in the holomap. "It's on the border of your space, but we have a vested interest in it."

The holographic display zoomed into that flashing pinpoint of light. Londo, for a moment, felt like he was on a starship traveling at impossible speeds, as the display pushed the stars of the galaxy into nothingness until ringed gas giant with moons quickly grew into existence. The device had the ability to pinpoint and show any world in the map! What a device! Londo had a mind to advice the Royal Court and the Royal Admiralty to try recreating this device. It would be extremely useful for Royal cartographers and ship navigators.

"I've taken the liberty of asking Lord Refa to secure it for us."

Londo snapped his attention back to Morden, unpleasantly surprised. "Refa?"

Morden grinned at Londo's surprise. "Well, you said you wanted nothing more to do with us, and he was quite open to my request. He secured the planet for us, and now my associates will take custody of it."

Londo was now breathing hard. Refa! The biggest hole in his plans to save the Great Republic. He once heard of an Earth saying: 'Give a bit and your whole hand will be bitten.' Refa! One of the biggest ducks capable of nibbling the Republic to death. Refa! With access to the power of Morden's associates in addition to the troubling rumors of House Refa's connections to House Tavari's secret activities, he could be emperor instead of the Emperor! Already, Londo could see Centauri Prime burning because of the idiocy of Refa. He remembered his terrible dream of meeting the woman in white who worked for the terrible Morgoth. Refa would make a much better Darkfriend for that woman and Morgoth. He really should do something about Refa before Homeworld burns.

Morden was saying, "The rest is yours. Good day, Ambassador."

Londo remembered what Mr. Endawi showed him. A black spider in the red hell of hyperspace. "Mr. Morden, I was thinking, I've never really seen the ships that you and your associates have used in...helping us. Perhaps one of these days...."

Morden's smile evaporated unsympathetically. "Perhaps. Meanwhile, as I said, tell your forces to leave the blockade mines but to move their ships out of that area. You don't want them or anyone else hanging around when my associates come for Zagros 7!"

**Somewhere at the edge of Minbari space**

Sheridan gazed with awe at the ship waiting for them. While it wasn't as big as most of the ships of the races of the Advisory Council and the League, its sleek lines suggested speed in a way that the boxy Earth ships couldn't hope to attain. The Newcomer starships had similar sleek lines, but they didn't have the smooth beauty of this vessel. It was as if EarthForce hired the 20th century Barcelona architect Gaudi to design a ship, with Salvador Dali as an adviser. For quite a while, in the back of his mind, Sheridan had wanted to take any one of the Newcomer starships for a spin, but now he _wanted_ this particular vessel.

"My God! It's beautiful!"

Marcus Cole smiled. "Her name is the _White Star_. And she's yours, Captain."

Sheridan's face lit up as if he just got the best Christmas present he ever had.

**Babylon 5**

David Endawi was still not satisfied. He just came from Citizen G'Kar with a story of 'Shadows' on the Narn homeworld and a war in space a thousand years ago. Not very useful even though it fit many other stories, especially from the Yolu and Markab ambassadors. But these were just that: stories. Like the story told by the Arnassian ambassador of a ship like the black ship appearing over a battlefield on her homeworld of JesVikla to help a royal family gain supremacy in return for having a base on the planet. She said something about the black ship being a "manifestation of Hevess, Queen of the Deep." Hard to believe considering that the Arnassians had been in space for almost longer than the Earth Alliance, only since the 2020's.

He wondered who else he could ask. The so-called Newcomers? He didn't feel comfortable about coming in person to their _telepathic_ ambassador. Then again, he could take Garibaldi's suggestion of meeting G'Kar unofficially a step further....

**Zagros 7**

The _White Star_ flew gracefully, blasting battle stations out of the skies of Zagros 7 to allow the trapped Rangers to escape. The mission to free the Rangers of Camp Zagros was looking to be a success. Although John Sheridan was worried that they hadn't detected any Centauri warship. The Centauri had thought it worthwhile to set up this blockade around Zagros 7 but then abandon the planet? It didn't fit what he knew of the Centauri mindset.

"Lennier, are the scanners working properly?"

The Minbari diplomatic aide appeared to take it as a criticism. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

"Yes!"

Lennier tinkered with his controls and a holographic projection dropped down at the front of the bridge, showing a wide view of everything around the _White Star_. Sheridan was once more amazed.

"Oh, this is—this is w.... Delenn, what _else_ can this ship do?"

Delenn was enjoying Sheridan's reaction to the newest of the Minbari-Vorlon hybrid ships. "All in good time, Captain. All in good time."

Ivanova spoke loudly for everyone's attention. "We're picking up a disturbance! One ship, unknown configuration."

"Show me!" ordered Sheridan.

The holographic display zoomed in on the area of disturbance. Silhouetted against the rings of the gas giant, a spidery black ship was turning around to present its front to the _White Star_.

Delenn recognized the ship from Minbari descriptions and Lt. Keffer's video capture that David Endawi showed her. She whispered fearfully, "Shadows! In Valen's name!"

**USS _Enterprise_**

The Federation starship was once more in hyperspace, the mists roiling around the nearly invisible shield bubble around the white starship. Its cargo holds held crates of the precious and ridiculously expensive dilithium crystals from Bel-Nar. On the bridge, Galen groaned, using his staff to keep himself from falling over.

Kirk looked at the technomage with concern.

"My no-ship...it has detected an enemy. An ancient enemy." Galen squeezed his eyes shut once more. Usually, when a technomage senses a Shadow or one of its servants, it was a sensation of a far-off dread. Now...the sensation is like black slime so filthy it turned his stomach merely knowing that it's there. A taint. Like a thin slick of rancid oil upon the feeling of dread. The order had suspected that the essence of the Shadows would be changed by the touch of the Dark One, as if the Shadows were not foul enough. Galen had not thought that the Shadows' essence could be changed so much. He reached through his no-ship's sensors to probe the Shadow presence in hyperspace.

"So...foul," whispered Galen. He fought an urge to retch. "Captain Kirk, we must go to the enemy. It's chasing something important to the Light."

Kirk glanced back at Spock. Has the war that the galaxy been waiting for come already? "Maximize the subspace sensors and augment with tachyon scanners," ordered the starship captain. "Is the location noted in your no-ship's systems?" Receiving a nod from Galen, he pressed the intercom button in his command chair.

"Scotty, can the engines handle warp speeds in jumpspace yet?"

"_Ach, Cap'n! We canna do that! The _Excelsior_ is more advanced than the wee lass, but it nearly tore itself apart in the hyperwarp experiment. I'll have to open up a whole crate of those third-rate Bel-Nar dilithium. And that's not knowing if the dilithium will act like trilithium and kill us all!_"

Galen spoke urgently into the intercom. "Check your instruments. I've instructed my ship to allow your ship to draw power from it."

"_Ach, from that small wee vessel? It be like sipping power from a shuttlecraft!_"

"Mr. Scott, it _will_ be enough. Pinnace-class technomage vessels are equipped with a ZPM, a Zero Point Module."

Spock raised both eyebrows. His surprise was reflected by Scotty's voice. "_Why didn't ye say so?! Zero Point Energy! It might be enough! Thank ye, Mr. Technomage!_" After a pause, Scotty spoke once more. "_Cap'n, we have power! Structural integrity field, shields, the works! We can go to warp in hyperspace! Warp 1, just to be safe._"

Captain Kirk smiled as he glanced at Galen. It certainly helps to have more than one miracle worker on his starship. "It will be enough. Mr. Redpath, take us to warp...no..._hyper_warp 1. Go!"

The starship _Enterprise_ stretched and hyperspace saw its first rainbow colors of an engine warping space around a starship and attaining great speed. The nova-like warp-flash was quickly obliterated by the distortions of hyperspace.

**USS _Excelsior_**

David Endawi had shuttled over to the gleaming starship. The trip, although not within his orders from EarthDome, would be most informative for the Special Intelligence Division! Artificial gravity! Dozens of different aliens working together as a military ship crew! So bright and clean! Even a bit on the luxurious side. Although he knew this was a military vessel, it didn't feel very military. At least, not as military as the dark cramped militancy of EarthForce ships.

He shivered once more at the knowledge that some of these aliens were telepaths working openly and closely with normals.

Endawi frowned as he thought about the humans aboard. These humans, although allegedly from another universe, would be badly contaminated by those aliens. He looked to his side at his assigned bodyguard and escort. A human man with dark blond hair dressed in the same wine-red military uniform, except his belt was a sash woven of gold threads with tasseled edges. The guard had identified himself as the ship's chief of security, a human from Capella IV and a son of some dead man who sounded like a chief of chiefs of the Capellan tribes. What was his name? Leonard James Akaar. A comfortably familiar, yet odd, name.

He turned his attention back to the human that appeared Japanese sitting on a plush armchair in his office. Endawi continued to speak. "....since you are from another universe, I know it is a very long shot, Captain Sulu, but if there is anything you know about this ship, in the name of our common Earth origin, you could tell me...?"

Captain Sulu sipped at his tea and peered at his desk monitor which was playing the recording of the spidery black ship in hyperspace. He smiled up at the EarthForce Intelligence representative. "An extremely long shot indeed, Mr. Endawi. Are you sure you don't want some of this tea? It's very good, a blend invented by our resident Vulcan, Mr. Tuvok."

Endawi shook his head. He preferred pure _Earth_ tea made by wholly _human_ hands.Sulu continued. "And another thing. 'Our common Earth origin'? Quite a stretch, considering you admit in the same breath that we're from another universe."

Endawi shifted nervously on his feet, but he was determined to present as good a face as any Earther could.

Sulu smiled brightly. _These extra-universals smile entirely too much_, thought Endawi. "I was born in San Francisco on Earth. It's just not _your_ Earth. No matter. You're in luck, Mr. Endawi. We _do_ have information about that ship you're so curious about."

Endawi stared in surprise as Sulu pulled the datacrystal out of the dataport recently added to his desk computer. Pecking on the computer screen with his fingers, Sulu ordered it to bring up a specific file then turned the monitor to face Endawi.

The Earther stared in shock as the computer played a recording of not one, but _four_ ships clearly belonging to the same civilization as the black ship in hyperspace. They appeared to shimmer into existence and fight some unknown alien fleet in close proximity to what was clearly a Centauri fleet.

He watched in awe, his mouth open, as the black ships totally destroyed the unknown alien fleet and left the Centauri alone. He looked back at Sulu.

_Jackpot!_

_**White Star**_

"The Shadow is still on our tail!" shouted Ivanova.

"Good!" said Sheridan.

Delenn was frightened, her fears ingrained by her temple education on the Ancient Enemy. "_Listen_ to me, Captain! You _don't_ know what you're dealing with! The weapons on this ship aren't strong enough to hurt a Shadow vessel of that size! We _must find help_! We cannot _hope_ to destroy a ship like that alone!"

If the situation wasn't so serious, Sheridan would have thought that Delenn was being funny. Clearly, she had forgotten about his fame as 'Starkiller' among the Minbari. "With all due respect, Ambassador.... I've heard that before!"

Lennier was watching his instruments tell him about how fast the Ancient Enemy was closing on their tail. Sheridan's explanation to Ivanova about why they should hide the _White Star_'s ability to make independent jumppoints made sense to him. A weapon to be used as long as the Shadows didn't know about the small ship's ability. Then a question from Sheridan perked Lennier's ears. He looked up to follow the conversation more closely.

"Tell me, Commander, have you ever wondered what would happen if you opened a jumppoint _while inside_ a jumpgate?"

Ivanova gasped. "No! And neither should you! EarthForce experimented with the idea during the Minbari War. They called it the "bonehead maneuver." No offense!" That was directed at Lennier.

Amused and fascinated at where the conversation was going, Lennier only said, "None taken."

"Because it's _suicide_! Forming a jumppoint inside a jumpgate releases a _staggering_ amount of energy! None of our ships could clear the blast range before being blown to bits!"

"But _this_ isn't one of _our_ ships!" countered Sheridan. "Mr. Lennier, what do _you_ think? Is this ship fast enough to get out before the gate blows?"

"I have no idea."

Sheridan wasn't reassured. So be it. If they die, they die. The Shadows _cannot_ know about this ship's capabilities and the identity of its owners. "Well, it'll do. Where's the nearest abandoned jumpgate, Mr. Lennier?"

After consulting his instruments while keeping an eye out for the closing Shadow vessel, Lenner looked up and answered. "There is an abandoned jumpgate at Salos on the edge of the Caliban Sector."

Ivanova's eyes widened. "The Caliban Sector! That's quite a way from here! Can we make it?"

Sheridan grimly said, "We'll find out soon enough. Lennier, tell them to head for the Salos Jumpgate, best speed!"

Delenn glanced at Sheridan nervously. Ivanova was right. The Caliban Sector was far from here. The Shadow vessel was still closing in on their tail. Added to the problem was the remnants of the supernova that destroyed the Dilgar homeworld of Omelos in the Caliban Sector. Ships nowadays made a wide berth around the sector to avoid the remaining dangers of the supernova. The only vessels that dared the dangers of Caliban were those looking to scavenge for Dilgar artifacts on abandoned outposts and outlying colonies like Salos and those looking for first-hand evidence for their research into the Dilgar War. It was oddly poetic. Earth and the League of Non-Aligned Worlds defeated the Dilgars in a titanic battle at Salos and they were about to test a weapon against the Shadows at that old battle site.

The Shadow was now close enough to shoot. A purple beam of destruction narrowly missed one of the _White Star_'s wings. Delenn gasped. The Ancient Enemy would risk battle in hyperspace itself to find out about them!

"How long to Salos?" asked Sheridan urgently.

Lennier grimly shook his head. "Not long enough for us to escape another shot like that." A crystal lit up in Lennier's console and he looked up in surprise. "Another ship, closing fast!"

Another! The chasing Shadow must have called for reinforcements to cut off their escape. Morbidly, Sheridan wondered what would have happened had the Markab people all died off from the Drafa Plague. That would have made the much closer Markab jumpgate available for their 'bonehead' escape.

Sheridan went to stand beside Delenn, not caring about propriety in front of others anymore. His hand found her hand and they held hands tightly as they stood side by side, prepared to die in Shadow fire.

A flash of light bloomed in hyperspace through the bridge's front windows. Sheridan started. Had the Shadow fired some kind of missile and missed?

Lennier made a noise of surprise. "Captain! It's the _Enterprise_!"

**USS _Enterprise_**

Kirk could just see the huge black ship bearing down on that strange, yet beautiful, small ship as the _Enterprise_ came out of 'hyperwarp'. The skin of the black ship appeared to ripple like oil. It was so slippery black that Kirk had a hard time keeping his eyes on it. He narrowed his eyes and made a fist in front of his face.

"I do _not_ like bullies. Mr. Chekov, FIRE!"

Two of the starship's phaser cannons opened fire and red bolts found their mark on one of the Shadow's spines. The organic armor on the spine glowed, dispersing the phaser fire over itself. The Shadow veered off course, wobbling. A piercing scream of pain sounded in everyone's mind.

Kirk winced. Now _this_ was different from any other ship he had ever fought. And it fit Sulu's descriptions of the terrible black ships in the battle at the transit point, as well as that ship that ISN showed last week.

Uhura turned around, looking a bit dazed from the psychic scream. "Sir, the small alien vessel is hailing us on tachyon."

"Onscreen."

The main viewscreen blinked to the image of the alien vessel's bridge. Kirk was mildly surprised to see it was Captain Sheridan. "It's a small galaxy, Captain!"

Sheridan grinned. "Thanks yet again for the rescue, Captain! Follow us. The _White Star_ will need your help just a bit more."

Kirk nodded his agreement curtly and the main viewscreen blinked back to the image of the Shadow correcting its course and began to bear down on the _White Star_ once more. The Federation starship swerved to place itself behind the _White Star_, putting itself between the two fighting ships.

Kirk thought it was odd that from above, the beautiful ship had the shape of an angel with a peaked hood or hat. It made him think of Ambassador Kosh's angelic appearance the week before.

The starship shook as the Shadow shot at it, causing the shields to glow. A phaser lashed between the pylons supporting the ship's warp nacelles. It impacted directly on the Shadow's broad front. It wobbled, but remained on course. Another psychic scream sounded as the Shadow fell behind before regaining its speed.

_What the hell?_ thought Kirk as he watched the black ship on the main viewscreen. _Is it _bleeding

Spock said, "The unknown alien is resisting our scans. The most I can detect is that it is organic and appears to contain a single life sign inside. No engine or power source is detectable. The _White Star_ is also organic, but only on the surface. It appears to be the result of a blending of Minbari crystalline technology and a form of biotechnology. The biotechnology appears similar to what we have seen with the Vorlon ambassador's personal ship."

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "An alliance between the Minbari and the Vorlons?"

"Possibly."

Mr. Chekov called out. "The black wessel is still closing."

Uhura said, "Captain Sheridan is signaling that they're opening a jumpgate. He's asking that as soon as they open a jumppoint, we run with him away as fast as possible."

Kirk was puzzled. He signaled his agreement at Uhura. He thought opening a jumpgate was enough and didn't need a jumppoint. "Spock, what would happen if a ship activates its warp drive within an already active warp field?"

"The warp field would continue to function although it would be disrupted drastically. It would have an adverse influence on any starship not as finely tuned as a Starfleet vessel. Simply put, the starship whose warp drive is not so finely tuned would...be destroyed. Or seriously disabled at best."

"Mmmm...does hyperspace technology function on similar principles?"

"That, Jim, I do not know."

"The black ship is huge and very powerful. The blast radius of such a ship blowing would be...big. Can Captain Sheridan escape the blast fast enough?"

"Again, I do not know. However, from the sensor readings of his ship's engines, I doubt it."

"All right, then. Mr. Chekov, ready the tractor beam. Uhura, signal them that we will assist in their escape speed."

Redpath called out, "Jumpgate vortex opening!"

"Follow them closely! Mr. Chekov, tractor them as soon as a jumppoint forms!" ordered Kirk.

"Aye, aye, Keptin!"

Kirk could see a blue vortex opening in front of the _White Star_. He didn't understand why conduits into and out of hyperspace would have a color code. Blue for exits and yellow for entrances. It made things easier, he thought.

As soon as the stretching feeling of transiting between the dimensions ceased, Kirk could see the struts of a jumpgate. An extremely bright nebula nearly covered everything and appeared to be full of dangerous energies. He guessed that the jumpgate was at the edge of a supernova event. A dark burned-looking planet hung in the distance, appearing to mark the border between the nebula and the void of black space.

Then a bright light pierced the side of the still open jumpgate, indicating the beginning of a jumppoint. Chekov and Redpath did their jobs almost before Kirk yelled out his order.

"Tractor beam! Warp 1, NOW!"

The Federation starship latched onto the _White Star_ with the shimmering blue-white light of a tractor beam and began to accelerate towards the warp threshold. In the same instant, the Shadow ship began to phase into normal space. The jumpgate exploded. The mini-nova was puny compared to the nova that destroyed the nearby extinct Dilgar homeworld, but it was spectacular enough to vaporize the Shadow ship.

The _Enterprise_ treated the _White Star_ to the experience of rainbow-colored speed just beyond the limit of the speed of light. They successfully outran the expanding shockwave. The starship, once certain of the dissipation of the unexpectedly powerful blast, soon dropped back out of warp and released Sheridan's ship which drifted aimlessly for a moment before righting itself.

_**White Star**_

Dazed, Sheridan looked around. "Everyone all right?"

Ivanova quipped as she shakily held onto the back of the command chair and looked at Marcus, "I don't feel squished into the back of the bridge, do you? I feel fine."

Delenn shakily looked out of the window to be sure they weren't moving at the recent impossible speed. "Fine, I think. Lennier?"

Getting no answer from her aide, she turned to look at him. Lennier was holding onto his console tightly, his eyes showing white all around the pupils, his mouth partly open. Delenn rushed over to shake him out of his shock. "Lennier! Are you all right?"

"I was just thinking that, uhh, in all my years in temple, _nothing_ ever prepared me for _this_ sort of experience! And perhaps that when this is all over, that I will submit a proposal to revise the program."

Delenn cried out with good-humored relief.

"I think that would be a very good idea," added Lennier.

**Babylon 5**

Sheridan's Earth shuttle and Delenn's Minbari flyer returned to the space station even as the _Enterprise_ parked herself beside the _Excelsior_, flanking the civilian ship _Hakudo Maru_.

Soon, Captains Kirk, Spock, Sulu and Doctor McCoy joined Captain Sheridan, Ivanova, Garibaldi, Dr. Franklin, Delenn and Marcus Cole in the EarthForce Briefing Room. Both groups looked at each other with curiosity except for Garibaldi who looked at the Newcomers with a little suspicion even though he was grateful for their rescue of his captain yet again. Delenn was relieved to know that the Newcomers weren't Darkfriends.

After thanks were made, Sheridan spoke. "Although some of us, like Susan here, make it a point to watch everything that happens on Babylon 5, most of the rest don't have that option. Now, up until now, Delenn and I, and maybe Garibaldi here, have had all the pieces to what's going on out there. The return of the Shadows, the Rangers, the loss of my wife on Z'ha'dum. The first thing I learned at the Academy was that a lack of information can kill you. We can't afford that! So I'm creating a War Council. We'll meet every two weeks for now, unless something urgent comes up. The War Council will consist of each of us, whichever Ranger is stationed here at the time, and a few others I hope to add later. Whatever knowledge or information we have will be shared among the rest. There are no ground rules. Anyone can say anything he or she wants to say!"

Kirk nodded. "Starfleet Academy taught that lesson too. I don't like the sound of having a _War_ Council. But even I, an outsider, can see the need for that. I can see that the galaxy, your galaxy, needs all the help it can get. The United Federation of Planets is represented by only two starships and a civilian research vessel. Not much of a fleet, I know, but we agree and we are grateful to be part of this War Council."

Drs. McCoy and Franklin began to speak at the same time. Startled and embarassed, they looked at each other, seeing a fellow doctor bridged by the common bond of the Hippocratic Oath. Franklin smiled and conceded the floor to McCoy.

"I'm usually the last to know what's happening on my ship—"

Franklin laughingly interrupted. "As am I here on Babylon 5!"

McCoy rolled his eyes theatrically. "I'm sure other doctors have the same problem. We save people's lives and heal hurts. The least you, as our damned patients, can do for us is to tell us what's going on." He whirled around to Sheridan. "Now. What the _hell_ are these 'Shadows'?"

Sheridan nodded at Delenn who then took a posture of a temple teacher. "There are beings in the universe billions of years older than any of our races. They walked among the stars like giants, vast and timeless. They created great empires, taught the new races, explored beyond the Rim. The oldest of the ancients are the Shadows. We have no other name for them...."

**EarthDome, Geneva, Switzerland, Earth**

A senator was sitting at her desk, looking over the summary she just got from David Endawi.

"You'll find the report quite complete, Senator," said Endawi. He took out a datacrystal from a pocket in his suit. "This contains the recordings given me by one of the extra-universal ship captains."

The senator took the crystal in her hand and set it on top of the papers containing Endawi's report. She looked back up at the Special Intelligence agent. "And no one else knows what this ship is or where it came from?"

"Not that I could determine. I came across some interesting _stories_ here and there. Most of it from a thousand years ago. I don't know whether it has any relevance or not. The only concrete evidence is in that datacrystal on your desk, Senator."

The senator arched an eyebrow. "Quite. We'll leave all of this for the experts. Good work on this, Endawi! We'll let you know what we find." She shook hands with Endawi who then departed her office. As soon as the door closed behind Endawi, her face expression turned into one of contempt and the senator sat down at her desk. A door opened on another side of the office and two men came out to sit at the visitors' chairs in front of the senator's desk.

As a welcome for these two men, the senator lashed out with annoyance. "I told you to wait outside! You could have been seen!"

Morden gave the senator of his best winning smiles and held up both hands. "No harm! No one knows who I am."

The senator frowned at him. "It's all here. They don't have much to go on. A little from the Narns."

Morden dipped his head with a smile. _This man smiles entirely too much_, thought the senator. "Yes, well, that's to be expected. But I think we've neutralized that problem. Nothing else, then?"

The senator leaned back into her chair, smiling. She would enjoy wiping that smile off Morden's face. "Well, there's the extra-universals, the so-called Newcomers."

Morden waved a hand as if warding off an annoying insect. "How can they be a problem? They're from another universe. They can't possibly know about the ship or my associates."

The senator's smile widened. "Oh really?" She held up the datacrystal. "Mr. Endawi got this from them. Watch." She inserted the crystal into a wall monitor behind her. She watched Morden carefully as his smile faded at what the monitor showed. Four black ships appearing and eliminating an unknown alien fleet, clearly helping the Centauri fleet depicted within the recording.

She certainly enjoyed wiping the smile off of Mr. Morden's face.

Morden fingered his pendant. "My associates will be disappointed about this development. They will deal with the extra-universals soon enough. They don't matter." His damnable smile flashed back onto his face. "Your government can dismiss this as an isolated incident."

The PsiCop sitting beside Morden leaned forward. "I don't know. There's something about this idea of a threat to planetary security I find very appealing. As long as we keep the real truth to ourselves, there's no reason we can't use this situation to speed up the program here at home. And use it to get at those intruders."

Morden turned and leaned forward in his chair to give the PsiCop his full attention. "Interesting. What exactly do you have in mind?"

**Somewhere far to the anti-spinward ("east") of Earth's Solar System**

A Romulan R'Derex-class warbird swooped to avoid a shot, narrowly succeeding. The warbird shot back at the unseen enemy in retaliation. Even so, the feral-looking warbird was already trailing plasma from a nacelle. It was soon apparent that the unseen enemy was large enough to cast a shadow upon the fleeing warbird. If sound could travel in the vacuum of space, a viewer would feel from the enemy vessel a powerful rumble deeper than a volcano could make before its eruption.

A green beam finally found its mark on the warbird, destructively disabling it. The enemy vessel moved on, causing the drifting warbird to disappear into the shadow of its underside.


	17. Courting Chaos

**Tolonius VII**

Lord Antono Refa didn't like being away from Centauri Prime. Every moment he was away from the Royal Court meant a chance that the Emperor could make his own decisions.

With just one minute by himself, Cartagia could ruin everything Refa had been working hard for.

However, this was important enough for him to leave Court. Certainly much more important than any meeting of the Centaurum in which Refa had a seat. Anything decreed and passed by the Centaurum could easily be overturned by a single word from the Emperor, so Refa wasn't worried about _that_. It was only the young fool in the throne that he was worried about.

He looked at a monitor showing empty space, then at a noble lord standing beside him. The Centauri lord was so fat that Refa wondered if that was the reason Tolonian doorways were so wide. The fat lord turned to check out the shipyards and ships shown through the windows of the space station they were standing on, and said, "Lord Refa, I'm sure all will be satisfactory for you and the Royal Court. The Emperor himself will be...ecstatic."

Refa peered at the lord through narrowed eyes. "Does he know what it is that will be...'satisfactory' for us?"

"Oh no! Even the Grand Fleet Admiral believes I am merely trying to improve the efficiency of our warships. Which is the truth anyway."

"Lord Caen Tavari, I tire of this oblique approach. I have urgent business back on Homeworld."

The governor and fief-holder of Tolonius VII created a smile on his fat face. "We have set up monitoring stations outside of the Mokafa System, just outside the defense scanning range of Mokafa Station. We are about to send a battlecruiser to the edge of the system. Alone."

Refa raised both eyebrows. "Primus battlecruisers are notoriously expensive to replace. Even though they are strong, the Drazi wouldn't allow any to leave unharmed. Especially this close to their most important research station."

Lord Tavari waved off Refa's concerns and rang for a servant with refreshments. "Misinformation agents have told the Drazi to expect the ship in that part of the system. They will be on time to...deal with the battlecruiser. They cannot resist taking such a prize. Watch."

In the monitor, a jumppoint opened and a Primus battlecruiser came out and held its position at the edge of the star system in Drazi space. Refa took a sweetmeat wrapped around G'Quon Eth seeds off of a servant's proffered platter and watched the monitor carefully. If that Primus was destroyed, or worse, captured, the military would reconsider its contract with House Tavari, and the Royal Court, spurred by suggestions of treason, would become more open to the idea of transferring the fiefdom of Tolonius to another House or even back to the Imperium.

Finally, Lord Refa could see six Drazi sunhawks arrive at the scene. They must have been on the way from Mokafa Station already when the battlecruiser arrived. Lord Tavari's information leak clearly worked. He knew that the Drazi Freehold couldn't afford to put jumpengines on its warships. Feeling the mild high from the G'Quon Eth seeds, Refa frowned. He noticed something wrong. "Why hasn't the battlecruiser opened fire?"

Lord Tavari grinned and gestured at the monitor for Refa to keep watching.

Two of the sunhawks finally got in range of the battlecruiser and opened fire. As the Drazi energy bolts appeared, Refa thought about how best to discredit House Tavari at the Royal Court and to distance himself from his connections to Lord Tavari.

Then the energy bolts splashed against an invisible barrier, never touching the lone Centauri battlecruiser.

Refa's mouth fell open at the sight.

The battlecruiser finally opened fire, retaliating. The Primus also began to slowly maneuver, to lumber around to face the greatest number of sunhawks. The rest of the Drazi fleet came within range. The first two sunhawks did nothing, taking severe damages, obviously stunned at this latest development. Then the entire Drazi fleet opened fire on the battlecruiser, creating a fireworks effect around the still-unharmed Centauri warship.

Refa frowned once more. "Isn't the Drazi government going to know about this?"

Tavari laughed. "We took every precaution, including jamming their communications just before they shot at our ship."

The battle on the monitor was now approaching its foregone spectacular conclusion. Refa shrewdly looked at Lord Tavari out the corner of his eyes. He know that Lord-General Marrago found an ally recently and referred that ally to House Tavari. Refa had connected his House to Tavari for that precise reason. "Who is this ally that we have?"

Lord Caen Tavari smiled. The fat man nodded at his House guards to open a door in a side of the room. A humanoid shape came out of the shadows cast by the filmy curtains in the corridor beyond. Refa's eyes widened at the sight. The alien, for clearly he was an alien, appeared human if not for his fierce diabolical appearance. His eyebrows slanted up like a Dilgar's. His ears tapered up to a point, giving him an elfish look, but unlike the gentle elves of legend, the alien looked dangerous. His dark silver checkered uniform was clearly military, with a dark green cloak draped over one shoulder and tucked into the alien's belt.

Lord Tavari waved a hand toward the alien as he looked proudly at the Emperor's representative. "May I introduce Sub-Commander Veron of the Romulan Star Empire?"

**At the Transit Point near the Vree System**

A Sentri-class fighter departed a Primus-class battlecruiser. Its pilot took in the familiar sight of the small Centauri fleet assigned to guard this empty area of space as he took his fighter on an all too familiar patrol routine. Three Primuses and nine Vorchans. The pilot shook his head. It was enough to conquer a small world. The Royal Admiralty had even seen fit to begin the construction of a small station. The skeleton was already laid in with construction robots flitting around it like insects, allowing the shape of two pyramids with their bases stuck to each other to take form.

Another fighter from another Primus soon joined him on his patrol around the fleet.

A voice crackled into the fighter pilot's communication system. "Is that you, Desmo Ducati?

The fighter pilot chuckled. "Yes, Rem Lanas. The usual, yes?"

Desmo could hear the other fighter pilot sigh. "Too usual! When are we going to see some action?"

He thrust a finger under his false-gold Royal Guard helmet to scratch. "Rem, you know that the Admiralty's still worried about more ships popping up from nowhere here."

Rem groaned. "Perhaps we could ask a captain to bring his ship just two lightyears thataway, then we will have some action!"

Laughing, Desmo absent-mindedly adjusted his course to avoid another crisscrossing fighter patrol. "Which kind of action? Are you so bored that even some sport with a Vree is starting to look like fun?"

"Ugh! You are really sick, Desmo! Just using our six selves would break those tiny puny Vree bodies!"

"Look who's sick!" Desmo laughed. Just then everything appeared to dim for Desmo. He could hear Rem calling him with concern, but he sounded so far away. Impossibly far away.

"Desmo? You all right? Your fighter's _shrinking_! Desmo? Desmo!"

The universe flickered for Desmo.

Then everything brightened back to normal.

The Centauri fighter pilot gaped at what he was seeing now. Instead of the familiar and comforting Centauri fleet, there was a huge white space structure and several ships of similar color. The structure was clearly a space station of some kind, really tall and thick with a broad top. It was as if the designers of Babylon 5 had decided for the vertical instead of the horizontal. Blue lighting shone from the underside of that broad top which had large doors in itself, one of which was just closing. It looked like that Earth plant he'd seen high naval officers try out once when he was a server in the VIP mess hall. What was it? A...mishuhm? The ships were different from each other, but clearly, they were designed by the same people who built those extra-universal ships at Babylon 5 he'd seen in a naval debriefing.

He had accidently fallen into the extra-universals' home!

Desmo whispered, "Looks like I'm not in Scoria anymore."

One of the smaller ships, this one had a saucer held in by two cylinders while pylons connected the cylinders with a larger, but flat oval cylinder, emitted a shimmering blue beam with stars flickering inside. The beam, which was clearly their version of the attractor web, captured Desmo's Sentri fighter. A whine sounded in his cockpit and his skin began to feel like tiny insects crawling all over it. Blue-white light filled his sight, erasing the universe.

The tingling increased then began to decrease and Desmo was surprised to feel himelf standing rather than sitting. The light cleared to reveal a room. He could just see a humanoid shape standing at a console behind a dark glass. Two other beings were in the room as well, both of them aiming some kind of weapons straight at him. Their uniforms consisted of a dark red tunic held in by a black belt, and a pair of black pants. Insignias decorated the uniforms. One of the beings was very hairy, or is it furry?, with a bovine snout and eyes lost in deep cavities. The other was _blue_! With feathery white hair and _antennae_! He looked like a Gaim in a genetic engineering experiment gone horribly wrong.

Eyes bulging and body frozen by shock, Desmo whispered once more. "Definitely not in the Scoria Plains."

**Chancellor's Tower, First City, Qo'noS**

Chancellor Azetbur stole a look at a window. Outside, it was still very dark even though it should be noon. Filthy-looking clouds roiled in the sky. She could see a few people walking outside, swaddled in furs even though it was the middle of summer. What trees she could see had already dried out, dead, murdered by the cold darkness and the sun's radiation through the damaged ozone. Her world was dying.

_Praxis._

Brigadier Kerla was speaking at his place at the conference table. "...battle. Survivors are being ferried to nearby colonies and outposts. The Federation has...freely...offered more transports."

"Magnanimous of them," said General Kor bitterly.

Kerla gave Kor a sharp look. Kerla didn't like Kor, especially when Kor was a 'genetically reformed' Fek'lhri. "The enemy has turned into the Romulan Empire." He looked significantly at Azetbur. "Let the Romulans deal with them!"

A general, with a glance at Kerla, spoke up. "Our military cartographers has plotted the enemy's course. It doesn't cross any Romulan star system. To the best of the knowledge of Imperial Intelligence, there's no Romulan outpost in the path, except the Neutral Zone stations."

Azetbur leaned forward with her elbows on the table. "Then they're not attacking the Romulans." She looked at the general. "The Federation?"

The general shrugged. "There's a Federation base right in their path."

The Chancellor thought for a while. "We can send military aid to that base."

The room nearly exploded at that.

General Kor was the loudest in his protests. "Pfagh! These softies don't deserve our help! They keep 'helping' us, trying to make us as soft as them! Let them learn the mistake of being soft! Let them know the difference between kittens and targs!"

Azetbur simply stared at Kor who then quieted under her eyes. It is known that a woman's look can cut deeper than a knife. And the Chancellor took that knowledge to heart and honed it as well as any swordsmith.

"General, if the Federation wasn't so soft, they would have simply...imposed an embargo on us and forced us to run our resources through when Praxis blew. Then we would have died much faster and sooner. Do you really want such a dishonorable death? Not just your death, but the death of our whole people?"

Kor avoided her look, twisting his lips as if to snarl, but he didn't snarl. That satisfied the Chancellor of the Klingon Imperial Empire.

Azetbur looked around at those gathered at the table. "The Federation pour supplies on us. The Federation sends ships for our defense against the intruders. They fought alongside us at Klach D'Kel Bracht, dying glorious deaths for those who they've hated for decades. They ask for nothing in return. Nothing except peace. All of that without forcing us to lose honor and ask for those kind of help. I say the Federation has been extremely honorable. My father would be glad, not spiteful." Seeing that there were no more protests, she turned to Kerla. "Brigadier, you will send ships to this base."

Kerla appeared reluctant.

"Brigadier Kerla?"

"Ah, Madam Chancellor...." Kerla looked at the window pointedly. "All of our ships are tied up in the move to New Qo'noS and in maintaining the Empire, keeping the flames of rebellion out of the outlying colonies and subject worlds. The fleet we sent against the intruders strained our resources to the limits. If we divert ships for the Federation, even with their transports and terraformers helping now, the new homeworld won't be ready in time and more people will die...needlessly and without honor."

Azetbur pursed her lips. That would mean people blaming the Federation for the unnecessary deaths and sufferings. And _that_ would mean stronger calls for war with the Federation, even in the High Council itself in spite of the Khitomer Accords. Azetbur sighed. She couldn't possibly _ask_ the Federation to send more ships for the move to the new homeworld just to spare a few warships for their base. That would mean losing honor for the Empire as a while and subsequently, _she_ would lose her standing in the High Council. High Councillors would begin to override or even ignore her decrees...and assassination attempts would become frequent. Noble Houses would begin to openly jockey for her position. Kahless! Politics were a lot more complicating than she'd ever thought when she was named Chancellor in the place of her father, Gorkon. She was a Klingon but she felt like politics were turning her into a Romulan.

No wonder previous Chancellors appeared to have aged too fast.

General Kor added, "Chancellor, even if we do send the ships, the enemy would reach the base at present speed before they arrive. The ships will only be defending worthless debris."

Azetbur glanced down the side of her chair and her fingers began stroking the huge horn that belonged to her father. She looked back at her fellow Klingons. "Send a message to the Federation. Warn them of the enemy's course. That's all we can do for them. For now."

**USS _Enterprise_**

Dr. McCoy entered the captain's office and handed a report to Captain Kirk who then skimmed it. Upon reaching an item in the report, Kirk looked up at the doctor with surprise.

"Murder?"

McCoy grimaced. "Yes, Jim. The weapon was clearly EarthForce, but quantum scans of the DNA on the weapon were conclusive. Dr. Nashiin was murdered by one of our people on the _Hakudo Maru_."

Putting the compadd down on his desk, Kirk leaned forward to study his friend more closely. "Are you sure? Everyone on that ship are citizens of either the Federation or Betazed. With EarthForce trying to seize the ship, things would be very confusing."

McCoy frowned at him. "Jim, you know better than anyone else that people, no matter the species, are corruptible. The computers found a match for the DNA profile. It's Dr. John Howard."

Grimly, Kirk tapped a companel in his desk. "Kirk to Spock. Assemble a security team. Put Dr. John Howard under arrest on the charge of murder. Contact Director T'Sara to keep a close watch on Dr. Howard."

"_Yes, Captain._"

**Starbase 10**

Commodore Basil Quinteros studied the man behind the force field of the starbase brig. He looked human, yet he wasn't. He was wearing a white and silver uniform that reminded him of when he watched a revival of the Changing of the Queen's Guard at Buckingham Palace on Earth. Quinteros had seen the helmet that would complete the man's attire. He glanced at a security officer. They had quickly captured him because this part of the Federation was on heightened alert ever since Starfleet Command had figured that the alien invader that defeated the allied fleet at Klach D'Kel Bracht was coming here. After repeated threats to the Federation heart worlds, especially Earth, by lone powerful aliens, the wary alert was understandable.

"You sure he's not Klingon?"

"No, sir. Though his bioscans match the records of the smooth Klingons before the Imperial Klingons appear to have taken over their empire, he is not a Klingon."

Quinteros put a finger to his chin, thinking. This man's fighter had suddenly appeared out of the quantum fissure. If bioscans identified him as a Klingon subspecies, he wondered if.... He picked up a compadd and pecked in an order on it, bringing up a picture. Looking at it to be sure the picture was of an Imperial Klingon, the commodore walked to the edge of the energy force field and held up the compadd toward the man in the brig. The man looked up at it and his eyes bulged. "Xon!" He backed up to the back of the brig, falling onto the padded bench.

Quinteros leaned forward, making sure his nose didn't touch the dangerous force field, and said, "I take it you know this species?"

The man nodded furiously. "How did you get that picture? The Xon have been extinct for two thousand years!"

"I see. What is your name and rank?"

The man looked at Quinteros' face, saw determination there and slumped. "Desmo Ducati, Lujant of the Royal Navy of the Great Centauri Republic."

"Where did you come from?"

"My family's on Marigol and Davo. Ah, the beauty of the Davo starlace flowers kissing the night sky full of stars. The beauty of Davo cannot match my people's homeworld. It's Centauri Prime, you know. I heard that humans once called my home star Zeta Tucanae. Ridiculous name, I think."

Quinteros looked back down at the compadd and changed its orders to show a picture of a verdant-looking planet with two moons. Turning it back to Desmo, he asked, "Is this your homeworld?"

Desmo lurched forward and reached a hand towards the picture. The force field glowed and hissed, causing Desmo to quickly withdraw his hand with a hiss of his own. He whispered, "Centauri Prime."

Nodding, Quinteros pressed a button beside the brig entrance, closing the comm channel. Turning to the security officer, "Just as I thought. A Preserver duplicate world."

"Sir?"

"This man says his homeworld is in the Zeta Tucanae star system. We know there's no indigenous sentient species on any planet in that system, although ruins of a civilization were found on the third planet by dilithium miners on its second moon." The commodore held up the picture. "This is Qo'noS, the Klingon homeworld. Before it was ruined by Praxis. Exactly the same as Zeta Tucanae III."

The security officer gaped, amazed. Preservers! Something else that Desmo said lit a light in the officer's mind. "Sir...he mentioned humans...."

Quinteros nodded. "I noticed. Has the Preservers created a duplicate human world in another universe?" He turned back to the brig and reactivated the comm channel. "Mr. Ducati, you have humans in your universe. Where do they come from?"

Desmo gave Quinteros an odd look. "You are humans. Don't you know Earth?"

Quinteros and the security officer stared at Desmo with surprise. Another universe with its own Earth! The commodore remembered reading something like that in classified files about Kirk's mission to Halka. It must not be the same universe. Otherwise, this...'Centauri' would be very afraid of humans, or Terrans as they would be known in _that_ particular universe. He knew that from the technical analysis of the alien fighter craft that the 'Centauri Republic' would likely be too primitive to resist anything that a Terran Empire would throw at it.

Though...why?

Why has every alternate universe the Federation knew so far contained its own Earth? It was rare to find any of the other alien homeworlds in other universes. Why was that true? Shouldn't there be other universes that do not have Earths, but any one of the other alien homeworlds? Quinteros decided to leave that question for Federation scientists and philosophers for now.

Desmo spoke up, now angry as if just realizing something. "If you know Earth, then you also know that the Earth Alliance is an ally of the Centauri Republic. I demand to speak with a representative of the Earth government. Or better, one from the Centauri government." Desmo smiled ferally. "Law advocates _will_ bring you down for my mistreatment."

Quinteros sighed exasperatedly. "Mr. Ducati, we don—" The starbase shook. The lights dimmed a bit, then went back to normal. Red alert klaxons began wailing. The commodore looked up in surprise. Starbase 10 was a big starbase. Anything capable of shaking it would have to be...equally big and powerful.

Desmo Ducati sat back on the bench and leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "My guess is that the Royal Navy has come looking for me." He smiled, revealing his sharp teeth. "I would suggest you...capitulate."

Commodore Quinteros was already running out the doors for the turbolift to the command tower.

xxxxxxxx

Species 3259 Subset B successfully bypassed. Cube 578 now arriving at Spatial Grid 7396, Octant-66-omega. Scanning source of interdimensional activity. Scanning adjacent space structure and vessels. Primary occupants consist of Species 5618. Vessels are similar to those encountered at grid K7-DY100-B4. Cube 578 now receiving communication from space structure.

"This is Commander Olga Makan, standing for Basil Quinteros, Commodore of the Federation Starbase 10. You are in Federation territory. Please identify yourself."

The individual self-designated 'Olga Makan' is analysed to be a member of Species 5618, human. Warp-capable, origin grid 325, physiology inefficient, below average cranium capacity, minimum redundant systems, limited regeneration abilities.

Assimilation is irrelevant to the primary task. Adjacent space structure and vessels are irrelevant. Ignore query of the individual designated 'Olga Makan'.

Warning: vessels and space structure arming weapons and firing. Damage: 13 percent. Repairing damage and adapting to Species 5618 weapons.

Threat assessment: space structure has capability to damage. Opening frequencies to structure and all vessels.

"We are the Borg. Your interference is irrelevant. Resistance is futile."

Adaption complete.

Cube 578 firing phaser 45 at space structure designated 'Starbase 10'.

Scan of interdimensional anomaly complete. New task: investigate the new quantum universe indicated in the scan. Priority level raised from 5 to 3.

We shall comply.

Activating transwarp coils and channeling transwarp energy at interdimensional anomaly.

Species 5618 vessels firing. Damage: 5.7 percent. Adaption does not fit the optimal requirements. Re-adapting.

Continue interdimensional activity.

xxxxxxx

Commodore Basil Quinteros watched in horror as the huge cubical ship swatted at Federation starships all too easily.

A tactical officer reported, "Sir! They're doing some...weird subspace-warp field wedging into the fissure."

Quinteros saw the readings. He blanched. "That's transwarp technology." He looked up and could see the fissure becoming visible...and widening. It was already big enough to allow an Oberth-class starship through and still widening. "All ships, fire at will! Fire at will! Stop that ship!"

The night soon lit up with countless phasers and photon torpedoes slamming into the Borg cube. The damage was painfully visible, yet it didn't seem to faze the Borg.

"Sir!"

Quinteros looked over at the officer calling for his attention. He went to look at what the officer was seeing in the subsidiary tactical scanner. The sensors seemed to be reading vessels through the quantum fissure. The reading wasn't clear, but those were obviously a small fleet of large ships. He looked up at the cube. The fissure was now half as wide as the Borg vessel.

"Continue firing!" Quinteros whirled to point at a lieutenant manning a station. "You! Divert all power to weapons! Shave some from even life support!" The commodore hurried to a communication panel and slammed it to activate it. "Control Tower! Open all port doors! Order all armed vessels to leave the starbase! Once any of them is out the doors, order them to open fire on that ship! Fighter squadrons, go!"

All around the drydock section, cavernous doors began sliding open and the smaller ships docked within began to emerge. Fighters of all classes quickly departed the starbase, phasers firing.

The Borg cube kept returning fire. Clearly, it was capable of multi-tasking as the cube began moving towards the widening fissure while shooting defensively at the Federation craft. Starships kept receiving crippling damages and a few began exploding. Fighters were completely ignored. The fissure was now wide enough to allow the Borg cube through. The transwarp wedge deactivated and the cube halted firing at the Federationers. The massive cube gracefully moved into the quantum fissure.

Basil Quinteros ordered the communications officer to send warnings to the vessels detected beyond the fissure. The comm officer reported that the aliens were not receiving anything. The commodore blanched. _My God. They don't know what's coming!_

**Centauri Fleet at the Transit Point near the Vree System**

Lord-Admiral Jarissi stared as this...glowing hole appeared and widened. He ordered the fleet to take defense formations and all fighters launched. He, and everyone else, stared again as a huge _cube_ emerged. Once the cubical ship had completely exited the hole in space, it turned to face the Centauri fleet. A cube, of all things. Militarily speaking, a cube was such an ungainly thing to have as a warship. Yet, this cube appeared to move gracefully.

An officer appeared at Jarissi's side. "Lord Admiral, they're trying to talk to us. Audio only."

"Let's hear it."

Soon a voice came out of the speakers. It sounded as if billions were speaking as one.

"_We are the Borg. Existence as you know it is over. Your culture will adapt to serve us. Your technological and biological distinctions will be added to our own. Lower your defenses and surrender your ships. Resistance is futile._"

Lord-Admiral Jarissi frowned at the arrogance of these...Borg. After all, they were one ship against a fleet of _Centauri_ warships. They were about to find out about Centauri resistance. He gave an order.

"Everyone, fire!"

**Epsilon 3**

Draal sensed a disturbance in the fabric of the universe. This disturbance was similar to what he sensed through the Great Machine when the extra-universal ships transited into his universe, separate from that terrifying disturbance that emanated from the dark superbeing known as the Dark One. However, this disturbance felt much stronger, bigger even, if size could be applied to a sensation.

Draal, Custodian of the Great Machine, cast his mind to reach through the Great Machine's ethereal network, reaching, reaching and rushing through a network conduit to the source of the disturbance. Upon reaching the source, he whispered, "In Valen's name!"

He knew there were terrors to freeze the soul in the universe. This is one such terror. A cubical ship seemingly built of pipes with soft green light glowing from within. He cautiously probed the vessel. Any machine in the universe was vulnerable to the probings of the Great Machine, excepting those of the First Ones, of course. He saw walking bodies with mechanical parts grafted into them. He felt no life at all from any of the bodies. A true mechanical hive-mind.

_Bio-mechanical drones taken from many different alien species. Drones._

Uh-oh. The hive-mind has detected his probings. It shouldn't be able to do that. Draal quickly withdrew from inside the cube's workings. He watched in horror as the cube easily and brutally cut down the Centauri fleet. Drones suddenly appeared inside several Centauri ships out of nowhere and began converting their crewmen into more drones.

_Teleportation technology!_

That, more than anything else, proved that the cubical vessel came from the universe of the Newcomers.

Draal has idled too long. He brought his mind back into his body in the Great Machine and then began once more to reach into the network. This time, he put all the power of the Machine into his reach. He must talk to all the Great Machines scattered throughout the galaxy about this latest threat.

He knew that if knew about the Great Machines, it would seek to seize them, to..._assimilate_ them.

_**Hakudo Maru**_

Dr. John Howard could feel the furtive glances of the Betazoids on the ship. It began soon after the senior Betazoid came from a meeting with Director T'Sara in her office.

They knew.

It wouldn't be long before security from those narrow-minded Starfleeters came to arrest him. He had stuffed a few clothes and some currency, including gold, he had collected on Babylon 5 into a business briefcase. He hesitated just once and that was to decide whether to take his tricorder along with the stolen small handphaser.

Now prepared, he walked in the direction of the shuttle bay. He made sure to act as if nothing was amiss, ignoring the Betazoids' glances. To prevent any of them from reading his intent in his mind, he mentally reviewed a hymn from Ancient Egypt. His father had given him a copy of Pharaoh Akhenaton's Hymn to the Aton, thus beginning John Howard's interest in archaeology.

_At daybreak, when thou arisest on the horizon,  
When thou shinest as the Aton by day,  
Thou drivest away the darkness  
and givest thy rays._

The shuttle bay doors came into sight. A guard was already posted there. Howard frowned. There was never a guard posted there. T'Sara was trying to cut off all avenues of escape for him.

Howard pulled out his handphaser and just as the guard was turning to look at him.

"Hey, sir! You can—!"

The guard slumped down to the deck as a phaser shot killed him. John Howard glanced down at his weapon, realizing his error. He shrugged down at the guard.

"Oops. Guess I forgot. You know how things are.... Too many things to keep in my mind."

That was another murder added his charges. Howard shrugged as he entered the shuttle bay. He looked around at the bay. Now which shuttle should he take? A Starfleet-loaned shuttle would be too recognizable. Besides, it would certainly have a transponder. That Betazoid shuttle that belonged to the late Lady Neclauna Nore? No warp capability and no weapons, although a Centauri gladly buy it for the luxurious exotic arrangement inside.

His eyes soon settled on the two-decked Vulcan shuttle that came with the Surak-class ship. The _Hak'Mar_. It was named in memory of both the _Hakudo Maru_'s present name and its original Vulcan name, _Shi'Mar_. The ring around it indicated warp capability for the shuttle. Built in the days before the Federation's shield technology made it unnecessary, the shuttle's hull would be thick and strong as armor. T'Sara, out of respect for Lady Neclauna and the Betazoids, improved the shuttle's comfort, including a fully stocked food replicator imported from high-tech Vulcan. John Howard smiled as he went to the Vulcan shuttle.

xxxxxxxx

Spock, having been informed by a report of phaser fire at the entrance to the civilian ship's shuttle bay, led his security team quickly through the entrance. One of the security officers swore. Even though he was a Vulcan, Spock felt the situation certainly called for some swearing. A Vulcan-built shuttle was already lifting from the shuttle bay deck and turning around to face the closed bay doors.

"He can't get out," pointed out another security officer unnecessarily.

"Indeed," said Spock, although he had doubts about that. "Phasers on maximum. Aim for the shuttle engines."

Phaser beams lashed out only to splash against the shuttle's shields. Spock raised an eyebrow. That part of the shuttle's construction wasn't in the original specifications. The security team kept on firing, hoping to wear out the shields and hit the engines. Spock took out a communicator. "Spock to _Enterprise_. Dr. John Howard is attempting to escape in a shuttlecraft. Request _Enterprise_ to—"

The Vulcan shuttle fired its main phaser cannon, blasting the bay doors out into space. Instantly, there was a hurricane roar in the shuttle bay as the atmosphere vented out into space. Spock quickly allowed his communicator to fly out of his hand as he grabbed for a piping beside the bay entrance door. Unfortunately, most of the six-men security team flew out to their death in the cold of space.

The engine ring around the ruddy-colored shuttle emitted a blue glow as John Howard left the _Hakudo Maru_ to freedom.

The hurricane roar soon quieted as the atmosphere spent itself. Spock and the two remaining security officers immediately blew out all air out of their lungs. If they held their breaths, the vacuum would tear the air out of their lungs, causing serious internal damages. Once the wind weakened enough, Spock set his feet back on the deck and quickly ran to a control panel while the security officers began thrashing with eyes squeezed shut against the painful swell of the eyes. Feeling his own eyes burn in the absence of atmospheric pressure against the eyes' own biological pressure, Spock instantly memorized the control panel and squeezed his eyes shut. Moving his fingers from memory, a force field activated over the destroyed bay doors and the atmospheric cyclers began repressurizing the shuttle bay.

He knew there wouldn't be enough time for the pressurizing to save the two officers painfully thrashing on the deck. Spock inputted an emergency command, forcing the entrance door to open. Once more, they felt wind as the atmosphere of the ship rushed to fill the vacuum in the shuttle bay. They would live. For now.

**Babylon 5**

The column of transporter effect faded and John Howard stood in a dim corridor. According to the shuttle's scan, this would be Red 15. By now, the stupid Starfleeters would figure out that he wasn't on the shuttle anymore. An automated program would take the shuttle to warp, then discretely bring it back to behind the third planet of the system, Epsilon 3.

Howard heard a noise and he quickly hid behind a corner. He griped his handphaser and checked his tricorder. A human.

The human soon got close enough for Dr. Howard to hear him muttering to himself.

"Not fair. No, it's not fair. I shouldn't suffer. Chaotic times? I'll chaos them!"

Howard peeked around the corner in time to see the human man set something down. The archaeologist checked his tricorder to see what the object was. A bomb. Of some considerable power. The man nervously looked around and quickly walked away into the dim distance.

John Howard made a small smile. The man seemed promising. He decided to follow and study this man closely.

xxxxxxxx

Ambassador Londo Mollari walked up to a tube door and pressed a button for the tube car. The door soon opened, revealing G'Kar within the tube car. Londo and the former Narn ambassador stared at each other, expressionless.

"I...I'll wait for the next one."

G'Kar merely stared expressionlessly at Londo.

Suddenly, there was a large explosion down the corridor. Londo frantically looked around for an escape from the roiling flames. There was only one escape: the tube car itself with G'Kar in it. Londo dove through the closing tube door even as the flames licked at his feet.

The tube car shook and fell down its shaft. Safety mechanisms engaged as the car halted, causing its two occupants to fall heavily onto its floor. Londo lost consciousness.

**USS _Excelsior_**

Tuvok looked up from his console. "Captain Sulu, an explosion has occurred in the Red Sector of Babylon 5. It is considerably more destructive than the explosion that damaged the Customs Sector."

Sulu went over to the communications console and reached over Janice Rand's shoulder to activate a channel. "_Enterprise_, did you pick up that explosion?"

Uhura's voice floated out of the speaker. "_Yes, _Excelsior_. We are assisting Babylon 5 in tracking down the terrorist. Can you beam out the survivors?_"

Sulu glanced at Lieutenant Akaar who shrugged. "We're working on it. Sulu out."

**Babylon 5, two hours later**

Londo looked up at the ceiling of the tube car and bellowed, "We're in here! Can anyone hear us?!"

G'Kar giggled and said in a tiny high voice. "I hear you!"

Londo was getting tired of G'Kar's facade of madness. He shouted once more at the ceiling. "In here!!"

G'Kar grinned foolishly and said in the same tiny high voice, "We're in here!"

The Centauri ambassador frowned down at G'Kar. Madness. Perhaps he should introduce the crazy Narn to Minister Virini. Or better yet, the Emperor himself. From what he has heard from Vir and Timov, young Cartagia certainly knew how to handle Narns. "What was it the humans would have said about my situation? 'Out of the fire, into the hot pan.' Yes, that's it."

A high whine sounded in the tube car. Another bomb! Londo widened his eyes and looked despairingly at G'Kar who was now smiling quite widely and maniacally. "We're dying!"

The Narn cackled.

But the whine wasn't that of another bomb about to go off. Starlight enveloped both of them and all they could see was glittering blue-white light. When the light faded, they found themselves standing on a platform, and Starfleet medics rushed over to them. A fat blue-skinned man waved a scanning device at Londo.

"Ambassador, you're on the _Excelsior_. I'm Doctor Altos Viger."

Londo laughed, too grateful for the rescue to be amazed at the teleportation technology just demonstrated. "There, you see! I'm going to live!"

G'Kar was looking disappointed and gave Dr. Altos a dirty look as the Bolian waved his medical scanner over the Narn. "So it would seem. Well, it _is_ an imperfect universe."

Londo pulled his lips back from his sharp teeth with a hiss. "Bastard!"

G'Kar responded with the same attitude. "Monster!"

"Fanatic!"

"Murderer!"

"You are _insane_!"

The medics looked at each other as Dr. Altos scoffed and said, "Any allegations of insanity must go through me. Neither of you is a doctor. Let me be the judge."

G'Kar laughed in Altos' face. "I guarantee your devices will certify me as insane." He looked back at Londo. "_That_ is why we will win!"

Altos rolled his eyes as Londo muttered, "'Go be the ambassador to Babylon 5,' they said. 'It will be an _easy_ assignment!' Ah, I hate my life!"

G'Kar grinned. "So do I!"

"Shut up!"

Altos sighed. "You two shut up." The Bolian nodded at two medics who promptly pressed hyposprays to the patients' necks, sedating them. As the comatose Londo and G'Kar were put on antigrav stretchers, Altos had one more order to give. "Better put them in separate wards. I'm not about to clean up the first murder to happen in my sickbay!"

**USS _Enterprise_**

Uhura turned in her chair. "Sir, Chief Garibaldi is asking for you."

"Put him on," curtly ordered Kirk. He was still peeved about not catching Dr. John Howard.

"_Captain Kirk, the terrorist just said something about an explosion bright as the sun, but the stuff he got isn't capable of anything that big. I got a hunch. Can you check out the fusion reactor?_"

"Stand by." Kirk looked down at Chekov, signaling him to scan the space station's fusion reactor.

Pavel Chekov shook his head. "The radiation is interfering with the scans. There _is_ an indication of unrelated power at the reactor. Nothing more."

Kirk didn't like it when the universe seem to keep interfering with what he could do. "Mr. Garibaldi, we are reading some kind of power separate from the fusion reactor. We can't do anything more for you."

"All right. I'm scrambling a zero-g team. Garibaldi out." 

xxxxxxxxx

The Constitution-class starship moved to the reactor tail of Babylon 5 for a closer look while the zero-g team scurried inside for a search.

**Babylon 5**

Sheridan was getting tense. If he didn't bring the madman around, everyone on the station would be dead. "Carlson, this isn't going to work! Look, even if you _do_ get off station, you really think you're gonna get away with this? We've got your ID flagged to every Earth base for thirty light years in every direction! There's nowhere you can go!"

Robert J. Carlson was now frantically pacing around his room. He screamed at Sheridan. "_That's enough!_ Sit down! You're making me nervous!"

Sheridan had to keep the man from finding out about the comlink up his ass. "I'd rather stand."

"_I said sit down!_" Carlson pushed Sheridan backward to a chair. Shaking his head, Carlson lost his glasses. Seeing that the man was now at a ragged and dangerous edge, Captain Sheridan sat down on a chair.

A beep sounded from under Sheridan.

Carlson's face shifted from fury to confused despair. "What the hell was that?"

**USS _Enterprise_**

Uhura widened her eyes as she eavesdropped on Garibaldi's communications. "Sir! They've run out of time!"

Kirk looked at Chekov with tight urgency in his eyes. Chekov said, "The team is moving the bomb. It's still in the radioactive field!"

"Keep trying!"

"Sir, the bomb's barely out of the field now. I'm not sure we can confirm a lock on it."

"Lock anyway!"

A tractor beam reached into the hatch on the station's reactor tail and grabbed the bomb, startling the extraction crew. The tractor beam quickly pulled the bomb out of the hatch and slung it away from Babylon 5, releasing it. Soon, the bomb blew harmlessly in space.

Babylon 5 

Carlson waited for the fiery cleansing of his soul. It didn't happen. There wasn't even a vibration in the space station.

"No! It didn't.... It's not fair! _It's not fair!!_"

Sheridan seized the opportunity to stand up and wound up his arm for a vicious punch. His fist was flying at Carlson's face when ribbons of red light wrapped around and covered the terrorist. Carlson was already insubstantial enough for the fist to sail right through his head. Sheridan lost his balance and followed his fist down to the floor.

"What the _hell_?!"

**Vulcan shuttle _Hak'Mar_**

Robert Carlson patted his own body and looked around the small room with fearful wide eyes. He crouched down closer to the transporter pad when a frosted glass door slid open, revealing a man in professional Federation civilian clothes.

"I'm Dr. John Howard. You don't have to suffer anymore. Where would you like to go?"

Carlson drew back away from Howard's proffered hand. "Nowhere! I'm dead! My ID has been flagged on every Earth base in 30 lightyears!"

Howard smiled. "Every _Earth_ base.... What about alien bases?"

"_Aliens!_ No, I don't want those filthy things! They ruined Earth! It's their fault that the times are hard for Earth! I lost my job, my wife, my home because of them...." Carlson broke down crying.

Howard frowned and shook his head. He hoped it wasn't a mistake to rescue this man. "Since you love chaos, how about we go to the heart of chaos?"

Tearfully, Carlson looked up. "What do you mean?"

"Centauri Prime. I do hope that the Centauri are not too..._alien _for you."

A new hope shone on Carlson's face. He shook his head vigorously. "No! The Centauri, they're good! Yes, they've been good to us. If they gave Earth jumptech, they will give me life!"

"Life. Yes...life." Howard smiled mirthlessly.

The Vulcan shuttle _Hak'Mar_ kept warping towards the 40 Eridani System as long as it was in the Starfleeters' sensor range, then made a course change. Its nose was now aimed at the star that was Centauri Prime's sun.

**ISN (InterStellar News Network)**

A woman was speaking at her towering desk. A box containing a picture of a spiny black ship in hyperspace appeared over her shoulder. A question mark with the colors of the Earth Alliance was laid over this picture.

"...still debating about the unknown ship found in hyperspace by EarthForce fighter pilot Lieutenant Warren Keffer at the cost of his life. Rumors about this ship's civilization abound in the League of Non-Aligned Worlds and outlying Earth colonies, almost all ominous...and dubious. The destruction of the Arisia 3 Mining Colony a few months ago is rumored to be attributed to the alien ship. Our panelists, Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli of the Vatican and Senator Susanna Luchenko of the Russ—"

The female newscaster halted and held a hand to her earpiece to listen. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. Looking back at the camera, she said, "Breaking news. A Centauri frontier colony has been found destroyed. Mary T. Moore, our Centauri Royal Navy consultant, is at the scene. Mary?"

A woman with dark red hair held a microphone to her mouth. She was standing in front of what appeared to be a massive crater in the middle of a valley. "Cynthia, behind me is, or was, the capital of the Centauri colony of Morbis—"

Cynthia Torqueman, the female newscaster, interrupted the reporter. "Colony? All I see is the crater behind you."

"Yes, Cynthia. The crater didn't exist when the colony was still here. A colonial city of 900 Centauri residents appeared to either have been so destroyed, vaporized that this crater has resulted from that destruction...."

"You said 'or'...."

"Well, it's hard to believe.... Royal Navy analysts believe that instead of being destroyed, the colony was _scooped_ up from orbit."

Cynthia did a double take. "Scooped? You mean someone used a shovel big enough to pick up an entire colony?"

"Like I said, Cynthia, it's hard to believe. It has been done to all of the other cities on Morbis. The Centauri insist that this was done, not with a shovel as you suggest, but with a powerful attractor plasma web."

Cynthia, for once, was at a loss for words. She turned away from the screen showing the reporter Mary Moore in front of the massive crater and faced the camera. "Um.... We have Senator Susanna Luchenko of the Russian Consortium online with a comment."

The stern-looking but handsome Russian woman sat at a plush armchair beside a window. The top of a red medieval fortifaction wall could be seen through the curtained window. The wall partially hid the fantasy colorful towers topped with golden onion-domes that made up the St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow's Red Square. The senator faced the camera squarely. "Citizens, this is a difficult time for Earth. The important Arisia 3 Mining Colony mysteriously destroyed. Blatant piracy in the Janos System. Terrorism right here on beloved Earth, and on Mars, Proxima 3 and Babylon 5. Lieutenant Warren Keffer heroically died finding the black ship in hyperspace. The extra-universal ships endangering the peace we have worked so hard to have with the Centauri Republic. And now this mysterious and brutal attack on Morbis, one of the colonies of our ally. My heart goes out to those who have suffered in these chaotic times. If Earth is to be an island of peace and order in a sea of troubled stars, we must strive together for the goodness of Earth. To help achieve peace in our precious lives, the Senate will pursue a much closer alliance with the Centauri. An economic and military alliance with the Republic will free us from the burdens of keeping order and peace in the inhuman areas of the galaxy." Susanna held out a hand towards the camera. "Citizens, help us build a bond with our cousins, the Centauri!"

Cynthia Torqueman was back onscreen. "There you have it, citizens. The Centauri frontier colony of Morbis destroyed by a very powerful alien force. Is it connected to the black ship in hyperspace? Or...." The camera came in for a close shot of the newscaster's face. "Is it connected to the pirate ships unfairly seeking sanctuary at Babylon 5? Citizens of Earth, you decide."


	18. Priorities of Nations, Part 1

A Klingon K'Vort-class cruiser dodged enemy fire with fast maneuvers and fired disruptors and photon torpedoes in retaliation. A Centauri Vorchan-class attack cruiser blew apart under the returning fire. The _Ki'tang_'s shields sparkled as they resisted the impact of Centauri weapons and debris.

"Na'Dath," said General Moghar, "the Centauri are howling!" He grinned ferally at the commander of the Narn Air and Space Defence who was holding onto a support beam as the Klingon warship shook under Centauri fire.

Na'Dath said, "Your ship is most impressive." He watched as another missile exploded against Klingon shields on the main screen. Beyond the battle, he could see a planet covered in the clouds of pollution and acid rain. Tuchanq, the last Narn-held world. Technically, it was no longer Narn. A rebellion occurred upon the Kha'ri's surrender to the Centauri and the forty Narn governors of the world were now imprisoned by the Tuchanq rebels.

Narn warships swarmed around the _Ki'tang_, eager for vengeance against the Centauri who had come upon hearing of the Tuchanq rebellion. Shields weaker and less finely tuned than that of the Klingon warship protected each ship. The enemy was finding them too difficult to bring down.

Soon enough, the battle was over. Most of the enemy warships were destroyed or disabled. The disabled ships were then savagely destroyed by vengeful Narns.

The general looked at the scene. It was glorious. These Centauri were every bit as crafty and treacherous as the Fek'lhri back home. The Narns had been a nice surprise. A people forged in the fires of war and oppression! Very like Klingons, except the Klingon Empire had never been conquered. And Klingons knew honor. The Narns knew honor, of a sort, but they were as unscrupulous as members of the High Council. A worthy ally against this universe's twisted version of the Fek'lhri. He turned to an officer. "Begin transport of warriors to the capital on Tuchanq. Crush the rebels."

A Klingon warrior pounded his chest in salute. He turned to leave the bridge, but he paused when the general gave one more order.

"And, Klaan…. Bring us…what's her name, Na'Dath?"

"Elder Stateswoman nuViel Roon."

Moghar grunted his thanks. "Bring us her head, Klaan."

When the warrior was gone, Na'Dath turned to the general. Klingons. A frightening people. They appeared to _love_ battle. If what they said was true, they were actually the Xon, so feared by the Centauri.

"What is your procedure in conquest?"

Moghar revealed his fangs in a smile again. "Traditionally? We would occupy the alien homeworld, execute all government officials, and install an Imperial Overseer to put down any further resistance." Upon seeing Na'Dath eyes glaze in memory, he added, "I know that is what the Centauri have done to your homeworld. But we would not be so unnecessarily wasteful about our slaves' lives. And…we would not tuck tails and run if the conquest proves too difficult to hold." He laughed uproariously.

The Narn commander nodded, although he appeared nervous at the thought of Klingon occupation. He wondered what would have happened if the Centauri lost their Xon War and the Xon came to Narn. "Once Tuchanq is secure, we will begin systematic raids of Centauri ships and outposts. You will, of course, help us, General. My spies tell me the Centauri are pulling ships out of 'unimportant' areas of space to deal with an alien invasion." Na'Dath slammed a fist into an open hand. "Soon, the way will be open for Liberation!"

Moghar grinned. He could already hear the songs sung about this glorious and righteous campaign.

**Outside the Turan System (formerly Quadrant 27), Centauri Republic**

Vor Talle surveyed his domain. The Primus-class battlecruiser _Demola_, survivor of battles with the Narn, the Newcomers and others. For good reason, he was proud of this domain.

In the War of Retribution, known elsewhere as the Narn-Centauri War, the _Demola_ had an idiotic captain in Lord Va Mota, to whom may all of the gods refuse entry into each of their heavens. Above the planet Keeli, the battlecruiser was ambushed by the Narns. If it wasn't for the tactics of former First Officer Vor Talle, the ship would have been destroyed upon Va Mota's death in that attack.

Yes, Captain Vor Talle had reason to be proud of his warship.

"Milord!" said a bridge officer loudly. "The scanners are detecting something vectoring on us. It appeared out of nowhere!"

Talle leaned forward on his command chair that seemed more like a throne for his domain. "Boy, give me a view of that 'something.' It better not be more of those Narn insurgents."

On the viewer, Captain Talle could only see what appeared to be a metallic cube in the distance. He never heard of any alien species applying geometry to starship designs. Even the Newcomers at Babylon 5 only had a loose application of geometry.

It must be a new alien species. A potential First Contact situation.

"All right, boy, inform the sector command at Batain that we have a possible First Contact situation." Talle studied the approaching cube. "Great Maker, it's huge! Create a tachlink to the alien vessel. Send Interlac protocols, then send: I am Captain Vor Talle of the Centauri Royal Ship _Demola_. In the name of His Most Illumined Majesty, Narleeth Cartagia Jarn, by Grace of the Great Maker, Emperor of Centauri Prime, Defender of the Republic, Voice of the Gods, The Empire Made Flesh, we bid you welcome to the Great Centauri Republic."

"Sir, they're answering on audio."

A voice like that of a billion men and women speaking as one came through the speakers.

"_We are the Borg. You will disarm all weapons and escort us to Centauri Prime where we will begin the assimilation of your culture and technology. If you attempt to intervene, you will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."_

Nervous uncertainty crept up Vor Talle as the Borg cube approached closer. Such cold confidence! He had heard rumors of a disaster near the Vree System. The Royal Admiralty had tried to quiet it down, but rumors always leak wherever the Great Game is played.

"Great Maker, it _is_ huge…." Murmured the Centauri captain. Could these aliens be connected to the mysterious destruction of the colony at Morbis? Such power, size and certainty were usually the province of…First Ones. Vor Talle was not a fool like the late Lord Va Mota.

"Activate jumpengines! Open a jumppoint to Batain! Warn the Batain Sector Command! Warn Homeworld!"

The _Demola_ lumbered around away from the Borg cube as a jumppoint opened and shrill calls rushed out from the battlecruiser all the way to Centauri Prime. The calls were for help, but mostly, they were warnings.

A Borg tractor beam captured the Centauri battlecruiser.

Vor Talle screamed, "It's not supposed to happen! No!" His death dream had predicted he would die at a great battle in a star system lit by a fire-colored nebula.

Green pillars of light appeared in the center of the bridge. The light dissipated to reveal the most horrific beings the Centauri ever saw. They were little more than walking machines. What flesh showed through the black machine parts were pale grey, the color of unprepared corpses. There was no expression on their faces. None at all.

The six Borg drones began to march outward, reaching for Centauri crewmen to assimilate.

Vor Talle stood from his command throne and pulled out his sword of captaincy, preparing to defend himself. Other crewmembers used Tromo Handguns to fire phased plasma pulses at the drones. To almost no effect.

Personal force shields! Impossible!

A drone raised an arm towards Talle. The captain lobbed it off with his Kutai sword and took a quick look at the communications officer. The officer was struggling in the grasp of a drone, his face a rictus of agony. His veins were turning grey and his skin was turning deathly pale. So this is the 'assimilation' that the aliens spoke of. Talle ran to the engine control panel. He panickly pressed the buttons that activated the _Demola_'s thruster engines that would push the battlecruiser into the still open waiting jumppoint. The ship, dwarfed by the Borg cube, vibrated as it struggled in vain against the Borg tractor beam holding it captive. The cube fired a small red missile, hitting the tail of the battlecruiser. There was no apparent damage, but the missile's purpose was to knock out the jumpengines. The jumppoint wobbled and collapsed, showing the Borg missile's success.

Stranded and trapped by the terrifying aliens, Captain Vor Talle prepared himself for the Great Maker and his patron, Kotan, God of Navies. He turned his sword around, the hilt now facing the approaching drones. He drove the sword into his own hearts just as a drone reached for him and his neck.

**Babylon 5**

T'Sara was sitting at Garibaldi's desk. Her Vulcan calmness made the station security chief uncomfortable. No one could be that calm, that…centered. Even the most serene priest would fidget about being in a security officer's office.

"Officer, I apologize for the problems we have caused you."

Garibaldi narrowed his eyes. "No shit! The captain's pretty upset about it."

T'Sara raised an eyebrow at the human's emotional outburst and continued speaking as if the outburst didn't occur. "We will attempt the apprehension of Dr. Howard and Mr. Carlson. Our long-range sensors have determined that the stolen shuttle was on a course to 40 Eridani."

Garibaldi shook his head in wonder. Their propulsion drive was an impossible technology. Too bad there was no jumpgate in that star system. And no hyperspace beacon either. Damn. They could just overtake the shuttle by going through hyperspace. The gravity echo of 40 Eridani's three stars made hyperspace travel too dangerous for Earth ships. Which was why Earth hasn't charted the inner Alpha Centauri System. Yet. With technology exchanges with the Newcomers, they would be able to enter any star system at will!

But he had a criminal and a terrorist to catch. "So he's escaped. Gone. Thanks to your lax security."

T'Sara only appeared impassive, expressionless. It irked Garibaldi that he couldn't get any emotional reaction from her. People getting emotional tend to say things they didn't want others to know.

"Chief Garibaldi, to reiterate, we will attempt the apprehension of the two men. I will take my ship to 40 Eridani. Certainly, there is an incentive for us to investigate that system."

"Yeah…. Your homeworld is there, isn't it? In your universe, anyway."

"Indeed."

Garibaldi hated letting anyone with connections to a criminal out of his sight and reach. "All right, you can go…. On one condition: that Zack Allan go with you."

"Agreed."

Garibaldi stood up politely, letting T'Sara know that she could go. "Good luck, ma'am."

xxxxxxxxx

Having determined that no one with a jumpengine could jump into the 40 Eridani System, Captain Kirk has given the _Hakudo Maru_ permission to investigate that system. The red slender ship's warp ring emitted a blue glow and the ship vanished into a warp flash out of the Epsilon Eridani System.

xxxxxxxxx

Lady Timov raised an eyebrow skeptically and said, "If you say so, husband."

Londo shut off the vidscreen, cutting the link to his wife on Homeworld, and turned around in thought. So the House Refa is gaining pre-eminence at the Royal Court? According to his damnable wife, Lord Refa had convinced the Emperor that the new improvements at Tolonius would be all they needed to repel this latest alien incursion. Any courtier would be reassured and be convinced that Refa had the Republic and the Imperium in his best interests.

But Londo was not a jaded courtier. He knew that Refa had the Imperial Throne in his sights. It was time to surgically remove that blight of a man.

But how? The new aliens, by the reports of his sources, were making straight for Homeworld. He needed to somehow convince the Royal Navy to muster a mighty fleet in the defense of Centauri Prime. To do that, he needed to first convince the young fool, Cartagia. And to do _that_, he needed to pry Refa's claws off the young man and the throne.

Londo called up an image sent by one of his eyes-and-ears within the Royal Admiralty on the vidscreen. It was a distant tachyon scan of the alien invader. A silhouette of a very large cube. The ambassador was a loyal republican, a patriot, and he loved Centauri Prime as one would a wife. Even so, he was not blind about the strength of the Centauri military. He needed allies.

There was a problem.

The Centauri Republic, thanks to his own dealings with Mr. Morden, and to the idiocy of Refa and the Centaurum, had alienated almost every civilized planet in Known Space. Even the Newcomers were alienated. Londo thought that Captain Kirk and his henchmen would rudely refuse to help those who had too long sought their downfall. Besides, they were only two ships. No. He needed a powerful un-alienated ally. An ally with vast powerful fleets. A thought came in his mind. No. Certainly not Morden's associates. He was not about to go back to that slick human, not after extricating himself out of his dark clutches. Finally, an idea occurred to him. Londo went to work on the necessary official documents before calling for an appointment with a certain ambassador.

xxxxxxxxx

Captain James T. Kirk watched in horror as the Borg cube so coldly cut down a Centauri fleet. First the alien probe now flying outside and now this. He looked up from his desk at the two men facing him.

"Spock, what do you make of this?"

"It would appear that these aliens indeed originate in our quantum reality. As evidenced by this recording, the aliens appear to be more capable of handling an entire fleet than a Federation starship. Considering the varying technological levels of this quantum reality, I have serious doubts about the locals' ability to…resist the Borg."

Kirk looked back at Spock with raised eyebrows. He had caught the small humor, macabre though it was. "Galen? What can your colleagues do about this threat?"

The oddly alien-looking human silently stared down at Kirk, thinking. Finally, he said, "My order is constrained by rules. Some of these rules are not too unlike your Prime Directive. If we reveal ourselves, we would be a target of greed across the galaxy. Those whose interests would be threatened by our existence would…seek to eliminate us. I can only help in the context of your own actions."

Kirk slowly nodded. It was true that Galen did nothing until Kirk did something then technomagical help would appear however reluctantly. "Spock, I believe the timetable for our plans has been stepped up."

"Indeed."

Kirk took a compadd out of a locked desk drawer and handed it to Spock. "Give the orders to Captain Sulu. Tell him to go to Abba IV at top speed through jumpspace."

Spock agreed and left the office.

Galen studied Kirk. "You can't go home so you've decided to bring home to you. Admirable. We'll see if it's feasible."

Kirk smiled. He had finally decided not to let the technomage push his buttons. "Remind me to tell you about Captain Jonathan Archer and a marauding drone ship in the pre-Federation days."

xxxxxxxxx

"I don't _want_ to go to Minbar!"

"Oh, of _course_ you want to go to Minbar! _Everyone_ wants to go to Minbar! It is _the_ vacation spot of the season! Assuming you're part of the 'long robes and head bone' set!"

Vir Cotto gave a look of exasperated exhaustion to the Centauri ambassador. "Londo…."

Londo sighed. Why did he constantly let Vir, a mere diplomatic _attaché_ and a member of a _minor_ House, challenge him? He knew why anyway. It was a lucky person in power who has a trusted someone to contradict him, to always tell him the truth no matter how painful or embarrassing. Several past emperors even tried to make that official by having a 'truthspeaker' by their side.

He suddenly remembered the story of Emperor Ludo. A truthspeaker slapped Ludo in full view of the Royal Court for "allowing" the Shenaro slaves to revolt. Smarting from such a public embarrassment, Emperor Ludo had ordered all of the Shenaro exterminated.

Perhaps _some_ people are not so lucky to have such contradicting friends acting as truthspeakers.

"Vir, it's a good career move for you. From time to time you'll come back here, report to me. We will, uh, do a little business together." Londo pantomimed drinking as he said the last sentence.

Vir scoffed skeptically. "And who will take care of things while I'm gone?"

"I am quite capable of taking care of myself, Vir. I want you away from here. It is not a good place for you. That alien probe out there is going to destroy this place if the Earthers don't answer all of its questions. I doubt they will succeed. You must leave here. I want to _protect_ you!"

Vir made a frowning face. "I don't want to be protected!"

"Well, I'm afraid it's not your decision. It's already done! You have been promoted! You'll earn more money, receive more attention, women may even come to find you attractive—in time. I know it is a great burden, but I think that you will adjust. Now, I must go! I'm late for my transport to Centauri Prime!"

Vir now appeared confused. "Centau—? Londo, if I leave, you will be _alone_!"

"Augh! I have _always_ been alone! Pack up! Now! I'm not going to come back from Homeworld only to find your body floating uselessly around here when the alien probe is done with Babylon 5!"

The ambassador took a deep breath and calmed down. He hated to admit it, but he needed Vir for his plans. "Vir…. I know you've heard about the alien incursion in the Republic. I'm going to Homeworld to take care of it. You will be a lot more help for me on Minbar than here."

Vir once more looked confused. He pointed at a vague direction. "How? Minbar is that way, away from Homeworld!"

"We…uh…. Vir, we may need allies against this incursion. The Minbari are the most powerful and advanced star nation in Known Space. If you get them around to our side, our homeworld may yet survive…."

Horrified understanding finally dawned on Vir's face. He stared as Londo walked out of the quarters.

**Near the Turan System, Centauri Republic**

Drone 5 of 80 online. Species: Centauri—designated Species 5768. Origin point: Brackesh 9, a colony of the political entity designated Centauri Republic. Obsolete designation tag: Vor Talle. Obsolete hierarchical occupational tag: captain in the Centauri Royal Navy.

Identify relevant technology: a transdimensional propulsion system, descriptor designation: jumpengine and jumpgate.

Assimilation of Species 5768 at priority level 6.45. Interspatial investigation confirmed: no transwarp conduit has been constructed in Quantum Reality 002. Unable to utilize transwarp coils for high-speed assimilation. Optimize warp navigation path to Centauri Prime. Requirement for a unicomplex for the establishment of a unimatrix for this universe at priority level 5.83.

**Near the Immolan System (Beta Hydri System), Centauri Republic**

Dr. John Howard cursed his luck. The Vulcan-built shuttle _Hak'Mar_ had stalled and dropped out of warp due to something absorbed into the intake manifolds. The archaeologist was a scientist, not an engineer. And Robert Carlson was not much help, either in spite of his experience in maintenance and engineering. Damn Vulcan engineering!

Nevertheless, he had forced Carlson to don a spacesuit and go clean out the intake manifolds outside. They needed to reach Centauri Prime as soon as possible and offer their services to the Centauri government. This way, they could have their revenge against both the Federationers and the Earth Alliance.

Revenge.

And yes, survival.

The Federationers never truly understood that. John Howard thought of opening the frequency with Carlson to urge him to hurry. They could never know if there were pirates or "Raiders" as Carlson called them around here. He reached towards the communications console.

He couldn't move. It was as if his body suddenly decided to paralyze itself. He suddenly had the sense that someone was in the room with him. Impossible. With Carlson outside on the warp torus, he was alone. Bright, almost blinding, white light began to shine through the windows of the shuttle from outside. The shuttle began to vibrate.

John Howard began to feel the cold sweat of unaccustomed terror. What was going on? He strained to look at the viewscreen that the computers had automatically focused on the source of the white light. A large dark saucer-shaped vessel hung above the shuttle, colored lights flashing across its silvery hull. There was no apparent source of the blinding white light coming through the windows of the shuttle.

He managed to croak past the paralysis. "No!"

A glittering white light flashed and spun through the room and Dr. Howard was no longer in the room, leaving only his clothes on the chair.

John Howard found himself lying on a hard table, naked. He was sorely tempted to shiver in the cold air, but he was too paralyzed even for that. He took a sharp breath when he saw his captors.

Huge black eyes glittered out of grey mouthless faces whose contours almost suggested skulls. The room they were now in was full of darkness and silver lights. The aliens gazed down at Howard. The archaeologist found that he could now move his head. He turned to look over the side of the table through the aliens' robes that appeared to be woven of dark grey spider webs. He could see the former terrorist, Robert Carlson paralyzed on another table floating in the darkness, also naked.

Howard looked back up at the aliens and managed to say "Wha…. What are you doing? Who are you? What do you want?"

The aliens looked at each other. Howard had the feeling that they were telepathically communicating with each other. How else could they talk with no mouths? The group of aliens surrounding Howard's table then parted, allowing Howard a clear view over the other side of the table. He squinted into the darkness beyond the silver lights. What was that? It looked like someone dressed in white slowly coming out of the darkness.

When the person in white finally came close enough to the silver lights, Howard gasped. The person now looked older, ripened, but was better looking now, if that was possible.

"You…?"

The grey aliens then closed ranks and one of them bent down toward Howard and aimed a tool at his face. A red light shone out of the tool into his eyes and he fell into unconsciousness.

**Babylon 5**

Captain Kirk shielded his eyes as the blast whitewashed the main viewscreen. His starship shook in response to the blast.

"My God…," whispered Dr. McCoy. "That's a big explosion! What is it?"

Spock calmly supplied the answer. "The detonation measured at approximately 500,000 megatons. Just when the alien probe's organic hull began to break down, sensors were able to ascertain the type of explosive it used. It is tricobalt."

"My God! That's not a probe…it's a Tiffany lamp on steroids!"

Spock ignored McCoy's emotionally illogical response and continued. "Tricobalt, as you know, is ineffective against shielded vessels. Unshielded targets, however, would be vaporized by the blast."

Kirk nodded. Babylon 5 was not shielded. Most local species do not even have the technology, although there were rumors. He had sent off the _Excelsior_ not only because of the Borg problem, but also because of this probe. The _Hakudo Maru_ was sent off for similar reasons. Many of the alien ambassadors have already fled in their own ships. Kirk could have gone with Sulu or to this universe's version of Vulcan, but he was not about to abandon his allies. Babylon 5, he knew, was too important. Still, the space station was too vulnerable for such importance. It was a case of putting too many eggs in one basket. "Spock, is our shield technology compatible with Babylon 5?"

The Vulcan took a few seconds to think about that. "While it would serve to preserve the space station from future aggression, we cannot guarantee the fact that EarthForce would learn of the technology and abuse it. Including using it against us."

Kirk frowned and nodded. Spock had a point. It was frustrating. He needed to work with his ally, Sheridan, but the alliance was severely limited by the Earth Alliance's antagonism with the Federationers. The only way he could openly work with him was for the Earth government to undergo a much more favorable reform or for the station to secede from Earth. Considering this President Morgan Clark, a reform was extremely unlikely. Any secession would entail a rebellion or even a civil war.

Kirk didn't want that. A civil war is horrifyingly wasteful. Besides, in this age of interstellar travel, humanity was supposed to be a unified species. The galaxy was too dangerous for any star nation to remain fractured. It would get too messy if any other species was brought into a civil war.

And now this alien incursion into Centauri space. Kirk had no love for the Centauri. They were too much like Romulans. Like Romulans, they treated serious matters as if they were a chess game. Still…he felt responsible for the incursion. By investigating the alien interspatial device at Titan 5, he created a way into this universe. Considering the current level of Federation technology, he could have created a fleet of starships and quickly conquered an empire in this part of the galaxy. And this alien invader appeared more advanced than the Federation. If he didn't do something about it, millions, if not billions, would die. Even though he was an excellent military strategist, military matters were distasteful to him.

"The Shadows…," Kirk quietly murmured.

"Sir?" Spock's naturally sharp ears caught it.

"Oh, just thinking aloud. This galaxy is falling into a war and our home universe has apparently produced another war on top of that."

"Jim, I am confident that we will prevail. Captain Sulu will see to that."

**The Abbai System**

"Approaching jumpgate, sir," reported Lieutenant Commander Kruton Lojur.

Sulu would be glad to be out of jumpspace. He didn't like the vibrating and jumping motions that the gravity eddies created for his starship in spite of the inertial dampeners. Dr. Altos Viger had been complaining about having to constantly create anti-spacesickness medicine for the crew. "Slow to one quarter impulse."

"One quarter impulse, aye."

The navigator, Lieutenant Angelo Tiffe, had to concentrate on his instruments to be completely sure of the starship's position in hyperspace. Hypernavigation was still a new science to him, and it was too often confusing with the lack of apparent direction in this hellish dimension. After a moment of near-panicked study, he relaxed and called out, "Arriving at the coordinates."

"Jump."

A vortex swirled open in hyperspace and the _Excelsior_ slipped into it and fell out of a jumpgate. Soon enough, a planet loomed before it. Oceans covered most of it so that there were only islands and a few small continents. Satellites around the planet automatically activated and focused on the starship. A ship, alerted by the satellites' activity, approached.

Sulu studied the alien ship on the main viewscreen. It was strangely beautiful, all fluid lines. It was sea-green and fragile-looking. A pod was situated in front of a ring. Another, but much larger, ring was at the back of the ship, connected to the thin body with filaments that appeared as fragile as the threads of a spider web. The rings had purple stripes, and gold script ran down the thin center of the ship. It looked very aquatic.

Ensign Tuvok reported, "The ship's weapons are almost nonexistent. They seem to rely on electronic disabling and shields. Most of that vessel is devoted to equipments related to shield generation. Sir, the orbital satellites have created a network of shields around the planet."

Sulu glanced at Tuvok in surprise. A planetary shield? Even the Federation did not shield its planets, preferring the delicate technology to protect sensitive facilities and bases.

Janice Rand turned in her chair to the captain. "Sir, they're hailing us."

"Onscreen."

A female Abbai now looked back at Captain Sulu. Her head fins gently rippled in the movement of water that filled her ship. _"This is the Abbai Matriarchate defense ship _Shain_. Please state your identity and intentions."_

"Sir," warned the security officer Akaar. "Sensors are detecting more vessels converging on us."

Sulu stood up from his command chair. "This is Captain Hikaru Sulu of the Federation starship _Excelsior_. I wasn't aware that we must explain ourselves. I thought our envoy has spoken to your empress and council of matriarchs."

The Abbai woman smiled and turned to signal at an offscreen officer.

Tuvok reported, "The orbital shield satellites are deactivating and the other Abbai ships are returning to their previous positions."

Sulu was relieved. "Thank you, madame."

The Abbai captain bowed her head in respect. _"Ambassador Gillian Taylor has been most kind and honorable to us. Please accept our apologies for our rash alert. We have heard reports of marauding ships in interstellar space, ships too powerful to be merely Raiders. The last time this happened, we were…lax in our vigilance. Abbai colonists suffered from Dilgar depravities on Tavita, and the Hyach-Abbai colony on Beshilay died when the Dilgar cracked the planet's crust in a weapon test."_

Sulu nodded. While he didn't know about the Dilgar, this bit of information was horrifying. Crack an inhabited planet's crust to test a weapon? "Understood. My Federation's Starfleet would have done the same."

"_Captain Sulu, I am aware of your…teleporter technology. I am told that you can teleport down to our homeworld to meet your ambassador and the Empress-Mother. Your Captain Kirk's proposal is…intriguing to say the least."_

Captain Sulu smiled. They have been hooked already.

**Tesoss, Ssumssha (Abba IV), homeworld of the Abbai Matriarchate**

Gillian Taylor stood on the bedrock in an environment suit, gazing up at the shimmering pinpoints of lights. She turned at the appearance of new light. A transporter column revealed Captain Sulu in his own environment suit. The starship captain nearly stumbled in the watery environment. He grinned at Gillian as he quickly regained his balance and oriented himself to being underwater.

Gillian smilingly pointed up at the reef ceiling through which many tiny holes were punched through. The sunlight shone through the holes into the water cave. "Isn't it beautiful?" She swept her suited hand around through the water. "This is the Star Caves of Tesoss. Five thousand years ago, the ancient Abbai built the Star Caves and made these holes to accurately represent all the major stars as they were in the spring equinox at the time."

Sulu admired the effect of liquid stars shining above in the water. "Spectacular!"

Gillian knew that the Star Caves would impress Sulu. In the Federation, this site would be a tourist destination as famed as the Egyptian pyramids on Earth, the great statues on Vulcan's Plains of Gol, and the Wall of Heroes on Andoria. "We don't know the exact purpose, but many believe the Caves were used in a ritual of divination like in Stonehenge back on Earth. A star-reading divination that the Abbai call 'Yemfai'. Amazing, isn't it? Amphibian species seem to share our dreams of touching the stars!"

An Abbai woman swam into the cavern through an entrance, her robe fluttering in the water. When she was able to stand on the rock floor, Sulu was again impressed, this time by her queenly stance. It was a stance that only elderly Vulcans could rival. The Abbai woman reminded him of Akaar's mother, Regent Eleen of the Ten Tribes of Capella IV.

Gillian slowly bounced through the water and tried her best to curtsy in her environment suit to the Abbai woman. By way of introduction for Sulu, she said, "We are honored by your presence, Most Serene Majesty, Natar Yrisha."

The Natar, the Empress-Mother of the Abbai, smiled and turned to the human man. "You must be Captain Hikaru Sulu. The council of matriarchs, the Marti, is intrigued by the proposal sent by your Captain Kirk. Clarification is required for our understanding."

This was it. The moment of conviction. Captain Sulu drew himself up as much as possible in his environment suit. "Your Majesty, we know that you are the strongest proponents of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. Your people are the most pacifistic in this universe. The League has the greatest potential in becoming a multiracial star nation. Even so, there are…weaknesses that need to be addressed. The League is more like a confederation whose members are motivated by self-interest. As a result, you cannot present a strong united front. This is why the League cannot stand when a stronger power like the Minbari and the Centauri makes demands on the League."

Yrisha's head fins shivered as she bristled at Sulu's truthful observation of the League. But a truly good monarch listens to the truth no matter how distasteful it is. "We admit this. We remember how the Minbari themselves dared to intimidate each of the League Worlds into violating our mutual defense treaties with Earth during the Earth-Minbari War. What can we do about this?"

Sulu said, "Create a closer federation than the League has right now. The greatest barrier to such a closer alliance is the mutual independence of the League's military forces. Each world still retains its control of its separate force. What we, the United Federation of Planets, propose is that the League establishes a single central military command for all the League forces."

Yrisha glanced at Gillian in surprise, then looked back at Sulu. "It is unlikely that it would be acceptable. The Abbai people won't venture beyond their space. Our mutual defense treaties with other League worlds and Earth are enough to keep the peace."

"Peace? What peace? The peace you have is a watchful peace, not the peace of a confident and comfortable nation. When I came here, your planetary defense lit up. Lit up at one single starship! Your defenders told me about their worries about reports of marauding ships raiding the space lanes. Your Majesty, your League is a collection of cold wars! Espionage, sabotage, technological thievery and raiders. Many of your worlds are antagonistic to each other! The Drazi, the Gaim, the Brakiri, the Pak'ma'Ra! I learned that in the Dilgar War, none of you could decide who would lead the defense against Dilgar aggression. As a result, one League planet after another fell to the Dilgars. Millions died. Your inability to band together efficiently against a menace is why Beshilay was destroyed. This is why your colony of Tavita fell and you had to labor to recover the colony at high cost. If it wasn't for the Earth Alliance, there might be a Dilgar Imperium replacing the League of Non-Aligned Worlds." Sulu shook his head in wonder. "Then you repaid Earth's generosity by allowing yourselves to be forced by the Minbari to sit back and watch as your saviors were butchered to the brink of extinction. Where was the unity that defeated the Centauri at the Battle of Nu'Shok? Where?"

Gillian watched Yrisha with wide anxious eyes. If Sulu wasn't careful about his harangue, the empress would be so offended that Abbai diplomats would be ordered to turn the entire League against the Federation.

Receiving only silence from the monarch, Sulu continued, "Now…. Now there are Shadows moving in the night out there, waiting for the right moment to destroy all the hard work that the League has done. On top of that, aliens from my universe are invading the Centauri. I seriously doubt that the Borg will be satisfied with the Centauri. There are rumors of _shielded_ Centauri warships attacking League worlds and outposts. The League Worlds hold strategic, but poorly defended, locations in Known Space. My people once had to deal with this in the Romulan Wars. Mutually antagonistic species! My God, if it weren't for us, the Vulcan diplomats and the war, the Andorians would be at war with the Vulcans and Tellarites! But through perseverance and mutual alliances, a great Federation resulted from our wartime cooperation. The League of Non-Aligned Worlds could realize something like the Federation! With all the diverse technologies and resources at your disposal, your worlds could even surpass the Minbari themselves!"

Natar Yrisha's eyes became starry as Sulu spoke of what the League could do. The ability to stand up to the Minbari and the Centauri…. Perhaps…perhaps with enough time, even the Vorlon Empire would have to respect this new League that the Newcomers propose!

"Captain, you are very convincing. But there are worlds that need more convincing that you have given us. What place can be the seat of this new League?"

Sulu shared a triumphant look with Gillian Taylor. "If all of you agree…. We will provide the plans for a Trojan-class starbase…a powerful form of Federation space station, with all the technologies involved in the plans. You choose the place for it. You choose either a station or a planet to hold the seat of this new alliance. I would recommend the Abbai System for the peace and harmony it can exemplify for the whole League. Agree, and we will freely give all of you our shield, gravity-control and warp drive technologies. No more shall even Abbai ships be forced to devote all of themselves to shield generation-related equipments. We will help improve and refine the Vree dimensional slip teleportation technology and all of you shall benefit from it. As for the rest, you must share and combine all of your own technologies…. Synergize! Federalize! An InterStellar Alliance greater than the League could ever be! You are more than you know, and if you do not change, you will always be less than you want to be!"

Yrisha looked up at the Star Caves' reef ceiling, at the sunlight peeking through the holes that located ancient major stars. She remembered when Jha'Dur Deathwalker was discovered on Babylon 5. The League may not have been unified in the Dilgar War, but they showed righteous unity by sending ships together to Babylon 5 for Jha'Dur. To have that again without worrying about the safety and peace of the Abbai System…. She finally came to a decision. "Captain Sulu. We will disband the League of Non-Aligned Worlds in favor of this proposal of an InterStellar Alliance."

**Babylon 5**

Commander Susan Ivanova glared out of the CC window at the commerce vessels jostling for places in their way into the Earth space station. This was getting to be a headache. She found herself fantasizing about activating Babylon 5's defense grid and blasting the more annoying ships out of her sky.

Ivanova could see the jumpgate activating. A Vorlon transport slipped out of the vortex. Naturally, Ambassador Kosh had precedence over all those irritating civilians in gaining entrance into the station. Fortunately, most of the civilians knew this as well.

Lieutenant David Corwin looked up from the command pit. "Ambassador Kosh is requesting that you meet him in Bay 13."

Ivanova frowned. This was unusual, but then Vorlons made it a matter of fact to be unusual. She nodded curtly. "Tell him that's fine. I'm on my way."

xxxxxxxxx

Ambassador Kosh's ship came to rest in its docking cradle in Bay 13. Ivanova straightened herself in preparation for meeting the mysterious ambassador and stepped forward closer the transport. Why would Kosh want her there?

Ivanova sensed a presence behind her and she turned in alarm around. What the…? How did Kosh get there behind her? Was he even on his ship?

"Ambassador. You wanted to see me?"

That odd voice blanketed in orchestra-like music came out of the ambassador's flashing translator on his encounter suit. **"Yes. Formality. Ritual. You should be informed."**

Ivanova studied the Vorlon carefully. "Informed of what?"

"**Returning."** Kosh's head turned to look past her, causing Ivanova to look back at the Vorlon transport. A part of the transport's side appeared to collapse into itself. Ivanova widened her eyes as a human form emerged out of the darkness in the ship and _glided_ up to her. Glided, not walked.

"Hello, Commander. I say I'd be back," said Lyta Alexander.

xxxxxxxxx

The Federation Ambassador Miranda Jones waited for the core shuttle to arrive. She was not comfortable in the shuttle station. The gravity this close to the middle of the station was so weak as to be non-existent. She was afraid that if she jumped, she might float off the station platform to oblivion. Her sensor net soon registered the arrival of two core shuttle cars into the station. Finally, she could get her mind off the distraction of the ordinary and get to work on the negotiations with the League ambassadors on League reformation.

The doors of a car opened in front of her. Miranda was surprised to 'see' someone known only in descriptions. "Weren't you here on Babylon 5 before I came? Captains Kirk and Spock told me about the situation with Miss Talia Winters."

Lyta coldly looked up and down at the Federation ambassador. Miranda was an element of this universe's foreign contamination. The Circle has been disrupted because of her and her colleagues. She was supposed to come back to Babylon 5 much later, but the latest puncture from the other universe had forced events. "Ambassador."

Miranda moved to stop Lyta from walking around her. "Pardon me, Miss Alexander. I heard that a human came on a Vorlon transport. Would that be you?"

Lyta narrowed her eyes and mentally reached out to determine Miranda's telepathy. The Federationer, to her surprise, was a very strong telepath, possibly a little stronger than P12. Possibly P13 or P14, even though those levels didn't officially exist in the PsiCorps, yet. It didn't matter. Thanks to her benefactors, she could be more powerful than that. She was satisfied to find that Miranda's mind was now only in the 'receive' mode. Good.

"Yes, I respect your mind," said Miranda. "We do not have something like this PsiCorps organization, but we do have high ethics."

Lyta's eyebrows climbed up her forehead in surprise. Were her thoughts leaking so much out of her mind? She slammed down barriers to keep her mind to herself. "Excuse me, Ambassador." She tried to step around Miranda only to be stopped once more by an elegant hand on her arm.

"Please call me Miranda. The Federation would like to have good relationship with the Vorlon Empire. _I_ would like have good relations with telepaths of your caliber. We can…open minds to each other, learn about each other. I am curious about you and what you have seen on the Vorlon homeworld."

Lyta frowned with distaste. Expose herself to extra-universal contamination? "I'm sorry, Ambassador, but I'm really late. If you'll excuse me…." The Earther turned away from Miranda and walked towards the lift that would take her down to the Garden level from the core shuttle station.

Miranda made one more attempt to reach out for Lyta. "Miss Alexander, I understand that the PsiCorps is looking for you."

Lyta turned around back to Miranda, looking suspicious. Was that a veiled threat? She was a little disappointed that the blind woman couldn't see the annoyance on her face. Miranda continued, her first words surprising Lyta once more.

"But I can see you. You're annoyed and suspicious. The Federation and I do not like what we know of the PsiCorps. If they come looking for you, we can…help protect you. Grant asylum for you."

Lyta slowly walked back to Miranda, speaking. "You don't have to. Let them come. They would find out a lot more about the Vorlon mind than they would appreciate. I am not with the PsiCorps anymore. Their rules do not apply to me anymore." Lyta was now close enough to lean forward close to the Federation ambassador's face. "If anyone would interfere into my life, interfere with my relationship with the Vorlons, I'd find him. I'd plant a nightmare deep into his mind, so deep not even your precious Vulcans could find or remove it. And that person would spend every night for the rest of his life…_screaming_!"

As Lyta briskly walked away from Miranda, the ambassador quietly spoke at her retreating back. Quietly, but her voice carried the authority of a Vulcan volcano. "There is no need for threats, Miss Alexander. My telepathic colleagues and I are bound only by ethics, not rules. Come against us and _you_ wouldn't like what the Federation can do to aggressors!"

xxxxxxxxx

Vir Cotto was looking miserable as he carried his luggage under his arms. Beside him was Londo Mollari, smiling reassuringly. Londo was also carrying luggage. When they came upon a doorway in the docking bay, Vir looked back at Londo.

"Go on, Vir. You will do fine. Butter up the Minbari, then I will take care of things on my end. If we do well, we will fight alongside the Minbari!"

"I don't know…." Vir doubted that the Minbari would ever stoop to giving the Centauri a helping hand against the Borg. His people haven't been exactly…honorable. Creating a Centauri-Minbari alliance was a heady assignment. Perhaps too heady for someone like himself.

"Oh hush! Go…. Go on!"

Vir sighed and turned towards the Minbari transport waiting to take him to Minbar. Londo, satisfied, nodded and turned to step through another doorway. Beyond it was his personal liner waiting to take him to Centauri Prime. In spite of his smile, Londo wondered if he wasn't going home to…die with his beloved homeworld.

**Near the Beata System, Centauri Republic**

One vessel detected on course to a jumpgate on edge of the adjacent planetary nebula. Identification analysis in Centauri database: a luxury liner designated the _Cygnus_, property of the Walt Disney Conglomerate, Earth Alliance. Hull configuration: spherical. Primary occupants: Species 5618, human.

Incongruence!

Species 5618 do not have interspatial capabilities. Quantum signature scans reveal the species to be native to Universe 002. Query: Is Species 5618 an inherently transdimensional species? Assimilation priority of Species 5618 raised to level 6.84. Download information to Buoy 004 and launch the buoy to the interdimensional passage. Recommend the investigation of the original Species 5618 by the Borg Collective.

Approach to weapons range of Species 5618 vessel. Transmission active. "We are the Borg. Existence as you know it is over. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctions will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

Species 5618 vessel attempting to escape. Species 5618 vessel attempting to summon military assistance from primitive hierarchy of Species 5768, Centauri, in adjacent star system. Activate tractor beam emitter 8. Target acquired. Begin transport of drones 145 through 203. Assimilate the occupants.

We shall comply.


	19. Priorities of Nations, Part 2

_Thanks for the comments, guys!_

_John, Kirk will do something against the Borg that is...Kirkesque. ;-) As for Gillian, I had no plans for her to chase Kirk, but if you like, I will bring her back into the thick of the story.

* * *

__At what point shall we expect the approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it? … If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher._

—Abraham Lincoln, 1838 CE

* * *

The woman in white let the iron-bound door close behind her. Rough stone walls and a bare floor that seemed to have melted out of the planet's bedrock made the room have the intimidating look of a prison. She would have preferred spotless gleaming white porcelain, sleek and sterile. A dark-blond haired man hung spread-eagled from nothing in the middle of the room. Delicate gravity fields held him captive. The Zener had brought him and his companion here to Z'ha'dum for her. 

The man peered at the woman. Even though, she no longer looked as young as when he last saw her, she was even more breathtakingly beautiful. "Liria?" the man inquired. "Liria Satarah, is that you? Please help me."

Ignoring the noise, the woman studied Dr. John Howard. Once she would have known the man, but no longer. She glanced at the xenoarchaeologist's clothing. People felt safer dressed than undressed. Carefully, she manipulated the gravity fields around the man, slicing away every article of clothing. The sliced up shirt, pants, undergarment, socks and shoes were bundled in a tight ball in front of the hanging man. Appreciating how the man's body was nicely made, hairy and softly muscular, she manipulated the Shadow gravity technology once more, breaking the bonds between atoms,and the clothes became fine dust falling onto the stone floor.

Howard's eyes bulged. Not even the Federation's most advanced worlds could imitate these simple feats.

"Liria?" This time there was an edge to Howard's voice. Fear. It was always good if that began early.

The woman reached into Howard's mind telepathically. Once more, she marveled at her body's abilities. They held potentials that she didn't have before being thrown into the eternal sleep. She soon found the pain centers of the man's brain. Very carefully, she began to stimulate them. Only a little at first, building slowly. Too much at once could kill quickly. It always amazed her how much the human body could take if fed in finely increasing amounts.

The spread-eagled man shook his head as if he could shake off the pain. Realizing that he couldn't, he fixed the woman with a stare. She merely watched and continued stimulating his synapses. In spite of the urgency, she could be patient.

The eternal sleep. She frowned at the unfairness of that. A long dreamless sleep that she did not deserve. She had never taken sides, so why be punished that way? The one side was as guilty as the other side for making deals, alliances, with her. She deserved equality! Was that so much to ask?

Beads of sweat appeared on the man's pale face. His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. Now and then, he gave a small grunt. Patience. Soon, now.

Yes. It was jealousy. The hypocrisy of those who imprisoned her disgusted her. Well, in this body, she could do better than she had done in the ancient war. Given time, she could break the strongest man, the proudest woman, mold them as an artist would mold clay. It was enjoyable to turn them to her own will. On their knees they had begged to give their souls to the side that employed her skills. The Light. The Darkness. They had served obediently until they died. The greatest pleasure had been the way their faces went pale, even years later, when they saw her, in life and in dreams, the way they hurried to assure her of their faithfulness.

The first sob ripped out of the man hanging in the air. She waited impassively. Haste could spoil this. More sobbing sounded, growing louder and louder in spite of Howard's 'manly' efforts to suppress them. Soon enough, they grew into a howl. She waited. The man's naked body shone with sweat, his head thrown side to side. The shrieks came and lasted until breath was exhausted and began anew as soon as he could inhale. His wide bulging blue eyes saw nothing as the pain wrenched him.

The woman stopped the stimulation abruptly, and waited as the screams faded into pants. The man shuddered, licked his lips, coughed. He looked confused and frightened. "Please, Liria. What do you want? I'll do anything you ask."

She smiled. She didn't care about the name given to her body. She tenderly reached out to lift up Howard's chin. "It is good to give in." In the human brain, there are pain centers and pleasure centers. She stimulated the pleasure centers, just for a few moments. Howard widened his eyes as he felt the sudden difference, gasping and shuddering once more with closed eyes and parted lips.

She took a handkerchief out of the sleeve of her white dress. Gently and tenderly, she cleaned the sweat off the prisoner's face. "I know this is very hard on you, John," she said warmly. "You must try not to make it more difficult. Would you like something to drink?"

Through Shadow technology, she manipulated gravity and a glass of water floated from a corner of the room. Howard never took his eyes off the woman he once knew as Liria, and drank greedily.

"Yes, that's better, isn't it? Remember, try not to make it difficult for yourself." Taking the glass, she turned away from the suspended man. Howard managed to speak in a rasping voice.

"I'll get you, Liria! Do you hear me? A penal center is too good for you! I will…."

The woman stopped listening. Any other time, she would have felt glowing pleasure at the fact that the prisoner hasn't lost defiance yet. Shaving away defiance and dignity in minute slices gave her delight. No time for that now. The Shadows need information about his universe. The latest incursion has made that need urgent. Naturally, the all-knowing Great Lord didn't need it, but His servants must help themselves. Carefully, she stimulated Howard's neural pain centers and delicately turned that task over the delicate electricity projectionShadow technology. As an added twist, she extended the electrical projection to the synapses that would stimulate paranoia in humans. She turned out the light and closed the door behind her. Darkness would do its work. Alone, in the dark, with the pain.

She walked into another room where another man hung in midair like Howard. This one appeared weak, small and ordinary. The terrorist was not really important, but every bit of information helped. His dark eyes tried to drill into her head as she manipulated gravity to remove his clothing and destroyed them as she had Howard's. He was nearly hairless and didn't look like he would be able to keep a wife physically interested. But he never flinched and said nothing. His defiance was different, fueled by hopelessness and despair. He, she knew, thought he didn't have anything to lose. She smiled. Soon, Robert Carlson would know otherwise.

This time, the woman in white telepathically reached for the pleasure centers in his brain and began the slowly increasing stimulation. Carlson frowned and shook his head, then his eyes narrowed, trying to deny the impossible rising pleasure. She almost smiled. Perhaps a woman might enjoy his now increasingly impressive asset, but clearly, it wasn't enough to keep his wife back on Earth. He would think that pleasure was easier to fight than pain. She had broken people with no more than this. But afterward, they tend to think nothing more than wanting more of the ecstasy that bloomed in their heads. Even so, it was quick, and they would do anything for more.

Pleasure. She had used that with consummate skill in the eternal battle between the two sides before that terrible long sleep. The physical aspect of pleasure had been a major part of her dispute about equality. She and her first husband had been created at the same time, from the same material, so wasn't she entitled to equality? Instead, his male insecurity drove him to whine and try to force himself on her.

She had been right to leave Adam.

She did not deserve to be punished! At least, _he_ received the gift of mortality and soon enough, no longer walked in the world. The satisfaction of that knowledge was small. It was a drop in the ocean of ecstasy she now felt in the presence of the Great Lord.

The Great Lord. Once, she would have remained neutral in the eternal war, preferring to seek power for herself. For now, the Great Lord of the Dark was useful for her purposes. She could afford to think that in the safety of her head.

An odd feel in her telepathic link pulled her out of her thoughts. She took one look at Carlson and clicked her tongue in exasperation. His head hung to one side, his chin dark with blood where he had chewed his tongue, eyes staring and already dull-looking. Inattention, she chided herself. She had been distracted and the stimulation grew too fast, too far. With an irritation that didn't show on her face, she withdrew from the man's head. There was no point in trying to stimulate the brain of a corpse. Remembering Dr. John Howard, she hurried back to the first room.

She sighed with relief when she could hear screams filtering through the iron-bound door. There were barely intelligible words among the howls. "Pleeeeaaaaaase! Oh, God, PLEEEEAAAAAASE!"

She smiled. Now that she would worry about only one man, there would be a little fun after all.

**Royal Palace, Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

_All governments suffer a recurring problem: Power attracts pathological personalities. It is not that power corrupts but that it is magnetic to the corruptible. Such people have a tendency to become drunk on violence, a condition to which they are quickly addicted._

—Missionaria Protectiva, Text QIV (decto), _Chapterhouse: Dune_ by Frank Herbert

Londo Mollari thought that the air on Homeworld felt thick. The courtiers' eyes shift nervously even as they radiated the false confidence that came with eagerly absorbing the power of the Royal Court. Even the servants appeared jumpy. Female servants squeaked at any curt order. Male servants widened eyes and moved almost at a run to do their lords' bidding.

Those were signs of a people who knew their world may soon die.

The Royal Admiralty and Court had kept all military engagements with the Borg quiet, but rumors still leaked out of the Royal Palace and swept through the streets. Families everywhere were discovering reasons to visit friends or relatives on other worlds. Soon enough, the Admiralty would have to resupply the constantly activating jumpgates with Quantium-40. _If_ the jumpgates will still be needed later.

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

Londo looked sharply at Lord Refa. "What?"

"Don't get me wrong, Londo. I have Centauri Prime in my best interests as much as you do. Fear does make people more…compliable. Easier to control."

Londo had to grind his teeth to keep himself from snarling at Refa. Doesn't he care about the 3 billion people on Centauri Prime? "If we don't do something about the Borg, Homeworld will burn!"

Refa chuckled. "Londo, Londo…. I am not so blinded by the glitter of Court. We _are_ doing something about it. Allies will soon be welcome to Centauri Prime. They will establish a base here where they will help with the defenses."

Londo stared at Refa hard. Suddenly, the air felt cold. "Allies? Do you mean those…what are they called? Remalins?"

"Romulans. Do pay attention when you're at Court, Londo! Come, come. It is time. The Emperor wants you to see something. Of course, I mean _I_ want you to see something." Refa smiled and made a beckoning gesture to Londo. The ambassador frowned subtly. Refa liked to flaunt the fact too much that he was the power behind the throne.

He went with him down the palace corridor to a hall-chamber. Here, chandeliers marched along the middle of the vaulted ceiling painted with murals of scenes in Centauri history and mythology. Along one long wall, mirrors arranged like windows reflected the real windows on the other long wall. Emperor Turhan, upon being raised to the throne, had ordered the Hall of Mirrors built according to the plans of an ancient royal palace on Earth.

The arched windows were all open. Londo could see almost the entire Royal Court standing on the patio and in the gardens outside the open windows. Everyone appeared to be looking up at the sky. Even his wife, Lady Timov was there, staring up along with everyone else. Londo could see Minister Virini standing at a window. Virini caught sight of Londo and Refa entering the Hall of Mirrors, and excitedly beckoned at Londo.

The ambassador reluctantly went outside and shielded his eyes against the sun as he looked up. He was horrified to recognize a scene from his worst nightmare. Huge black spiny spider-like ships were just beginning to pass over Imperial City, escorted by equally black spiky fighters. At first, they were few and then more. Hundreds. A thousand. Many more that Londo immediately lost count. Soon, there were so many that they blotted out the sun.

Jaw slack with horror, Londo stumbled backward back inside the palace. Turning around in the cool dimness of the hall, he could see the huge mirrors mocking him with more views of the Shadow ships flying overhead in the sky. Tearing his eyes from the sight, he caught sight of the Emperor watching the terrible spectacle through a window. Cartagia appeared beside himself with glee.

Frightened, Londo hurried to pull the fool away from the windows. A Royal Guardsman pulled out a dagger and held it at the ambassador's throat.

Londo's eyes were still bulging in his fright. The Shadows scared him more than the guard's dagger. "Your Majesty, what is this? They're terribly dangerous!"

Refa haughtily stepped to stand beside the Emperor. "We feel, and His Majesty agrees, that it is strategically wise to have our allies keep a fleet on Centauri Prime. They are extremely powerful. They will help with the defenses. Let the Borg come!"

Londo dumbly stared at his rival. Refa really _must_ be removed! He turned to Cartagia with beseeching eyes. "What did they give you, Your Majesty? If they hide behind the Centauri, we will die first when their enemies come!"

Cartagia gave a bright toothy smile and clapped his hands rapidly with glee. "Much more importantly, Lord Mollari, is what I will have! Thanks to Lord Refa, they were able to enter negotiations with us. I will achieve the godhead for the simple price of the island of Celini! Isn't it exciting? I will be like the Emperors of old! Just think! I will be a god walking among you! Of course, I don't need to die first. That's the beauty of it!"

Londo, keeping himself under careful control, haughtily pulled himself out of the guard's hold. If the Minbari caught wind of this, they would celebrate the day Centauri Prime burns. He bowed to the Emperor. "It is, as you say, a most exhilarating day."

He walked out of the Hall of Mirrors, barely able to hold his fearful horror. Once the tall doors closed behind him, he stumbled, nearly falling into the arms of Minister Virini. Lady Timov stood beside the Minister of Protocol. Horror made the ambassador careless as he gazed into the eyes of Timov and Virini. "He is insane!"

Virini shushed him as his wide eyes shifted around the corridor with fear. He held a bony finger up to his lips and whispered, "You must not say that. There are…eyes and ears everywhere. There have been…disappearances recently."

Timov nodded slowly. Even her normally cold haughty visage seemed to have cracked. "Don't be a fool. I did not stay married to you just so you could vanish in thin air. Those disappearances…. Well, a witness claimed she saw someone…turn into a pillar of light and vanish. Ridiculous. Of course, because she was a servant, nobody listened. Then again…soon after her hysterics, she fell down some stairs and broke her neck. Poor thing."

Londo was aghast. If that's not a teleporter like what the Newcomers have, then he's a spoo! Refa really _must_ be removed if the Republic is to be saved!

**Babylon 5**

Doctors McCoy and Franklin were discussing medicine in the Main Medlab over a patient lying on a gurney when the call came through Franklin's comlink. The voice of Ivanova came out of the device.

"Code 7-R. Code 7-R."

McCoy and Franklin exchanged glances. "This is Franklin. McCoy and I will be there. Nurse! Take care of this one. We gotta go."

xxxxxxxxx

McCoy and Franklin arrived at a meeting of the Babylon 5 War Council where everyone involved were gathered. Only Captain Sulu was missing as his starship was still at Abba IV. They exchanged quick greetings. Then the golden-looking holographic form of a Minbari man appeared among them. It was Draal from the Great Machine within Epsilon 3. He beamed beatifically.

"Ah! I see you have made alliances with each other…. Good! Great things will come from your alliance. Wonderful!" Draal turned to focus his attention on the technomage Galen. "I'm surprised your order has allowed you to participate."

Galen gave a half grin. "I'm not participating. I'm merely…an observer."

Draal gave a knowing smile and look. "Of course. Pardon me for making conclusions from my own observations. Now. The Borg are still in this universe. They need to be…removed before they can do any further damages." The custodian of the Great Machine turned twinkling eyes to Delenn, turning the burden over to her.

Delenn stood up. "We need allies. Not only for the Borg, but also for the coming war with the Shadows. Many times over the last million years, the Shadows were fought to a standstill by the First Ones, races immeasurably older than our own. After the last war, a thousand years ago, we believe the First Ones went away forever, passing beyond the galactic rim where no human or Minbari has ever ventured. But the Vorlons remained. It is possible that some of the others may still be around. Some have gone to sleep where they would not be bothered. Others still walk among the stars on unknown errands."

Marcus Cole looked up at Delenn from his chair. "The First Ones are very old. Possibly very very dangerous."

Spock said, "As I understand the appellation 'First Ones,' we have knowledge of such species in our universe. Our own contacts have not been entirely beneficial. Nor have they been entirely harmless. Once their notice is attracted, it is akin to a human noticing a colony of ants."

"Yes," said Delenn. She wasn't sure what ants were, but she understood the gist of what the Vulcan was saying. "We need all the help we can get. They must be found and contacted."

Draal nodded. "The Great Machine in Epsilon 3 holds great stores of information that may be helpful in locating the First Ones. Tales of encounters with alien forces beyond description, stories of vast and nameless beings that prowl the ruins of ancient cities. Each file ends with the words 'Do not approach.' One of you can investigate these files in person."

Captain John Sheridan would have liked to go, but the negotiations with the League were now intensifying and the Federation ambassador has requested his assistance with the more difficult League representatives. He turned to Susan Ivanova. "Commander, can you go down for me?"

"You can count on me, sir."

Draal wasn't exactly enthusiastic about having a stranger enter Epsilon 3. "Surprises are not…always so tolerant of a person's health."

Ivanova shot back, "Surprises can be good. Life would be boring without them!"

Draal laughed. "All right, I have decided that I like you. Come on down, then."

Captain Kirk envied Ivanova's chance at taking a close look at the Great Machine. But they still had one more thing to do before adjourning this meeting. "Ambassador Delenn. You will agree that we cannot rely solely on these First Ones?" Upon receiving a nod from Delenn, he continued. "The Minbari Federation can be instrumental in stopping the Borg. You have the ships."

Delenn made a formal half bow. "Yes. But our ships were built to fight the Shadows, not the Borg. I…doubt the Grey Council would be willing to sacrifice ships to this alien invasion. An invasion that has not touched the Minbari."

"So far!" interjected Dr. McCoy.

Delenn inclined her head, signaling her concession to that possibility. Valen preserve her people safe from that biomechanical horror! "So far, the Borg has attacked only the Centauri. The Grey Council feels that it would help remove a major element from the Shadows' arsenal of allies. It would also help the Narn free themselves. So, James, unless they can be convinced otherwise, they won't commit the ships."

Kirk glanced at his science officer. "Spock?"

Spock held up a compadd and a datacrystal. "Ambassador, we are offering the specifications for our shield technology to the Minbari Federation. If your Council decides to send the ships against the Borg, the ships will have shields as an additional protection. Will this be sufficient incentive?"

Delenn, dumbfounded and mouth open, reached out for the compadd and datacrystal. She looked up at the Federationers and gratefully nodded.

xxxxxxxxx

A Minbari flyer went from Babylon 5 to the jumpgate which activated at its approach. On it was Delenn and valuable information about a technology that would change the balance of power in this part of the galaxy forever. Meanwhile, an Earth shuttle went from the space station down to the planet below.

**Euphrates (Epsilon 3)**

Ivanova watched with amazement as the hologram of Draal vanished and the eyes opened on Draal's real face. His real body soon pulled itself out of the interface matrix. The Minbari looked at Ivanova and waited, his meaning clear.

Ivanova took a deep breath and stepped into the interface matrix. Draal guided her. "Relax and open your mind. But whatever you do, do not stray from the Path."

Ivanova felt her consciousness slipping into a conduit and closed her eyes. Suddenly, she found herself in the airless starry void of space. Instinct told her to seize what air she could find in space. "I…I can't breathe!"

"It's all right," assured Draal. "Try to calm your mind. Focus. All life forms are connected. Look for the Path. Look for the Path."

A faint blue ribbon began to form in front of her. Is that the Ethernet Path that Draal talked about? "I see it."

"It is the power that binds us, one to another, across the darkness of space. Focus on the First Ones, on the most ancient of ancients. Let the Path take you to them."

The Path became more and more solid and visible, looking like the theories of a wormhole's appearance. Ivanova allowed herself to be pulled into it and she rushed through the depths of space, passing stars at impossible speeds. _This is like that warp experience at Salos that the _Enterprise_ gave me. But much faster!_ Soon enough, she arrived at a planet. She was surprised to see that it was familiar to her.

"I know this place... I've seen it on the star charts. Sigma 957. They were here. I can feel their footprints in the sand. Hear their words...whispering on the wind." She consciously moved to look at the planet from all angles. It appeared to slowly change as she moved. Lines, both straight and curving seemed to glow through the sandy surface of Sigma 957. They were like the old legends of ley lines on Earth. "It's beautiful. They're coming back again...soon. I can... Draal? Draal, something's wrong." She thought she could feel space itself vibrating, convulsing as if the universe wanted her to go somewhere. A feeling of urgency pervaded her. "Draal, the Machine wants to show me something."

"Let yourself go. You know there are First Ones at that planet. It is done. Allow yourself to be pulled into the Path. It could be important."

Once more, Ivanova was in the wormhole-like Path and she swept through space. She then arrived at a star system. A beautiful Earth-like planet shone in the distance. "It's Davo." She could see a large fleet of Centauri warships of all classes. Peppered among the ships were a few alien ships, mostly vinZini. Then the stars swung as she spun around to see what the fleet was facing. "My God…. It's them!"

Draal looked at Ivanova sharply. If it was the Enemy….

A huge cubical vessel that seemed to be all pipes with soft green light glowing from within slowly approached.

"_We are the Borg. You will be assimilated.Disarm all weaponsand surrender your ships. Resistance is futile."_

A chill swept through Ivanova at the sound of the Borg announcement. It was totally devoid of emotions. It didn't even have arrogance in it, even though the words were arrogant. It sounded like a stadium full of people speaking with one voice. Ivanova, pushed by curiosity 'flew' to the Borg cube and went under it, almost touching it.

Draal finally guessed what Ivanova was seeing. "Don't touch them! Do not go in! We can't afford them knowing about the Great Machine!"

Heeding his warning, she pulled herself away from the cube. Just then the night was lit up with weapons flying between the cube and the Centauri fleet. Sentri fighters swarm the cube, totally ignored. Green beams and points of light slammed into the familiar warships. Ivanova was dismayed to see invisible barriers similar to the Federationers' shields halt some of the Borg attack. But they must be weaker versions, because they immediately failed under the power of the Borg weapons, not that it meant much to her.

One of the larger battlecruisers came close enough to the cube and it was grabbed by a wide dark blue tractor beam and a bright golden-red string of light that appeared to be wrapped by a lightning bolt shot through the inside of the dancing beam at specific points of the Centauri armor. Instantly, the armor on one of the forward points of the Primus shattered and fell away, exposing the battlecruiser's forward innards. Tiny explosions lit up the wound and bodies spilled out of the now tilting vessel.

Horror pulled Ivanova away from the carnage even as the Borg repeated the tractor beam tactic with a Vorchan.

"My God…. How can we defeat them? They're slaughtering them! Wait…. Draal, I'm not alone. Someone else is watching the Borg." She looked away from the battle, toward the sound of almost-insectoidal chitter. "It sees me. It knows I'm here. It... It's pulling me in. Can't stop it." In the fabric of space, four points of flaming light, looking as if they were alien eyes, formed and began to approach Ivanova directly.

What he was worried about has finally happened! Draal shouted, "It is the Enemy! Pull away! Go back to the Path!"

"I can't. It…. It knows I'm here. It knows my name!"

"Break off! I can't pull you off without killing you. Pull away! Don't look at it!"

Susan Ivanova managed to tear her eyes away from the sight just as the points of light were about to reach her while more flaming points appeared in the vicinity. Reinforcements for the alien. The blue ribbons of the Path soon slid the human woman along.

"That's it," said Draal. "Come back now…."

"Wait…. There's something else." Ivanova was now in orbit of Jupiter. A massive ship slowly moved through space with fighter escorts, all of them painted white and blue. "That's EarthForce One before it exploded! I can warn them! I can save the President!"

"No. It's too late. You're seeing the shadow of things long gone."

Then everything froze for Ivanova and was replaced by the image of Morgan Clark back when he was a vice-president, sitting at a desk. The image had a lot of static in it. "I've wanted Santiago dead for so long. I wasn't sure we could really pull it off. You're sure it's done?"

Another voice responded, a deep male voice. It was Mr. Morden. "EarthForce One will never return from Io. The power is yours, Clark. Mr…President."

Morgan Clark leaned back into his chair his chair, looking smugly satisfied. The image snowed into static.

Ivanova was once more out in orbit of Jupiter, watching as a small explosion caused the presidential ship to tilt down and slowly halt the saucer section's centrifugal rotation, light flickering in windows. Its fusion reactors breached and the ship shattered in a final explosion.

It was too painful for Ivanova to watch the assassination so vividly again. She turned her head away from the sight and she was suddenly back in the Great Machine on Epsilon 3.

Draal was looking amazed. "I do not understand! A normal human mind should not have been able to do that!"

Ivanova knew that her mind wasn't exactly normal, but it wasn't the time or the place for that. Besides, her mind was too busy trying to drink in the revelation behind the assassination. "I saw it…. I saw it all. The image I saw…the message. Can you record it?"

"Yes, but how…."

"Do it, please. It's the proof we've needed that President Luis Santiago was assassinated, that Clark was behind everything. We've got it. We've got it!"

**Royal Palace, Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

Londo bowed to the Emperor in the Grand Hall of the Royal Court, and backed away from the throne to the grand doors, occasionally bowing along the way. His exit would have been flawless if not for a noble lord's incessant coughing fits. He knew it was Lord Dugari. He understood it was merely an unavoidable illness.

Unfortunately, Cartagia didn't understand. He was narrowing his eyes in annoyance at Dugari who was trying to hide in the crowd of courtiers.

Londo turned around and left the Grand Hall, allowing the Royal Guards to close the doors behind him, leaving the ambassador in the Hall of Ambassadors. Ahead of him was Lord Refa standing in the Sublime Porte and looking smug.

"Ambassador."

"Vocator." Londo thought Refa didn't deserve that title accorded to a speaker of the Centaurum. But he must keep his feelings in check if his plans were to succeed. "Ah, Antono Refa, I have needs."

Refa raised his eyebrows. "I'm flattered, Londo, but I already have my wife, the Lady Celes."

Londo laughed good-naturedly, hiding his disgust. What a horrible thought! "No, no, that's not what I'm talking about. You see…. I'm trying to create an alliance with the Minbari…."

Refa studied the ambassador carefully and suspiciously. "The Minbari? What need do we have for them? They keep themselves out of others' affairs. Soon enough, we will be able to stand up even to them."

Londo waved a finger at Refa. "Ahhh yes, we will. But until then, we cannot move close to their space without fearing a reprisal from their warcruisers. Many key League worlds are close to their borders. If the Minbari agree to an alliance with us, we can conquer those worlds without any meddling from their fleets. Some of those worlds may get the idea of turning themselves in to be part of the Minbari Protectorate. With this alliance, that idea cannot even materialize in their heads."

Refa inclined his head. "That's true. How can I help?"

"Mmmmm." Londo slowly walked around Refa, shaking his upraised finger and glancing through the open Sublime Porte at the gardens of the Royal Palace's front courtyard. "The military, the ministers and the various key lords know you are the power at the Royal Court."

Refa smiled his satisfaction. "Also true."

"And I, Londo Mollari, a mere ambassador, have been away from Homeworld too long. The people that I need for the negotiations are…skeptical of my Centauri purity."

Refa shrugged. "What can we do? The Divine Turhan chose to send you to Babylon 5. It is the Imperial prerogative."

"You can make it easier for me to relate to key people at Court. If you help, you will have the credit for being the one who finally got the Minbari to side with us for the first time in Centauri history."

Refa's eyes gleamed at the thought of the honors heaped upon him by the Court. Londo can even see the way to the throne being open in Refa's mind. He's hooked. "Londo, how can I help?"

"Give me your _tessuro_ medallion."

Refa dumbly stared. Among the Centauri, male children of the nobility wore a medallion as a necklace which identified their Houses and essentially announced to everyone: 'Lay one finger on this child and you will be dealing with powerful people.' Upon their coming of age at the Rite of Ascension, the medallion is removed from the child and his long hair is for the first time raised up to the typical Centauri crest. Most lords keep their childhood medallion and often used them as seals to impress on the sealing wax on traditional documents.

"Excuse me?"

Londo smiled. "If they are to truly believe that I am your ally, they must see that you trust me well enough to lend me your _tessuro_ medallion."

Refa was apprehensive. While Londo had a point, it is always hard to let someone have something that is intricately tied into your life. He plunged a hand into a pocket and brought up a golden circle the size of a child's hand. Embossed on it was the sigil of House Refa and other symbols. He pressed the medallion into Londo's outreached hand.

"Thank you, Lord Refa. You won't regret this." Londo smiled gratefully. So it begins!

**_Valen'tha_, Grey Council Command Ship**

Delenn came upon the round portal of the Council Chamber where a white-robed acolyte waited. The acolyte bowed and moved away as the hatch slid aside. Delenn stepped into the darkness and cautiously walked in the darkness, moving with memorized steps, resisting the temptation to reach out with her hands for guidance. Glancing up at the unseen ceiling, she could see the faintly glowing and hovering crystal diamonds slowly moving in a circle far above.

Suddenly, a bright light shone down. Delenn was relieved to find that her memory was not faulty yet. She was standing in the center of the Council circle.

"I come, not as a former Satai of the Nine, but as an ambassador answerable only to you. I come also as a bearer of a proposal. A proposal of alliance."

The nine pillars of light came on into being. The Nine stood around Delenn, concealed by grey robes and hoods. One of them held the staff of leadership. Hedronn. A voice came from one of the Nine. "State your proposal."

Delenn took a careful breath. "The proposal is not entirely mine. It comes also from the Newcomer known as Captain James Tiberius Kirk."

Another voice spoke. "This Kirk is an intruder. His intrusion risks derailing all we have worked for."

Delenn recognized the voice as coming from Satai Neroon. Her lips almost twisted in distaste at the imbalance of power in the Grey Council. The voice of Hedronn, Satai _and_ now the Chosen One since the death of Jenimer on Minbar, sounded. "Speak, Delenn, of this proposal."

"The galaxy is falling into shadow. The Darkness is growing. A new threat has appeared and threatens to displace both the Light and Darkness."

Neroon said, "Yes. We know of the Borg. The Centauri will fall." He sounded dismissive.

Delenn swirled to face Neroon. "Yes. If that is allowed, all other worlds will follow the Centauri. The Borg seeks to consume technology. We are the most advanced of the younger races. After the Centauri, they will doubtlessly come against us. The Borg must be stopped before the Circle is entirely ruined."

Satai Coplann snorted. "Is not the Circle ruined already with the arrival of the Newcomers?"

"Perhaps. But we still have a responsibility. We can use the Borg threat to create a new alliance of star nations. It is our responsibility to work against the Darkness and to combat it. Lately, I am…troubled by the Council's inactivity in the face of the rising Darkness. Without revealing our knowledge of the Shadows, we could be lending aid to the Non-Aligned Worlds without using military intervention. Prevent them from being tempted by offers from the Shadows. We could be involving the Warrior Caste more with the Rangers…. Instead, we have stood by and done nothing!"

Neroon pulled his hood to reveal his face. "Until the Shadows come, it is not our war." Delenn took a sharp breath at this sign of arrogance. Neroon's lips twisted in a resentful sneer. "In the last war, the Warriors fought and died. We fought as you prayed with the Priests and the Workers built the ships and weapons for us. Then at the moment of final victory, you pulled us back and forced us all to surrender. Surrender to a primitive race that was already defeated! It was too much. You ask us to fight another war with a race that is not the Shadows. No. This war is not our affair."

Delenn bristled as her eyes shot daggers at Neroon. With four of the Nine being of the Warrior Caste, they only needed one other Satai to gain a voting majority. She was tempted to break the Council, but she felt it was not the time for it. "You have not heard all of my proposal." She pulled out a datacrystal from within her robes. "In here is information and the schematics for the Newcomers' force shield technology."

Surprised murmurs rippled through the Grey Council. Delenn continued.

"If you agree to send the ships to stop the Borg, we will equip all of our ships with the shield technology generously provided by Captain Kirk. We hear rumors of the Centauri equipping their warships with shields taken from Valen knows where. The Rangers report that even the Narns are shielding what ships they have left. If you refuse…." Here, Delenn raised the datacrystal as if to throw it down and shatter it on the Council floor. All knew that datacrystals were unbreakable, but the symbolism of the act was important nonetheless. "We will not have what the lesser races have. We will fall behind the lesser races. Our ships will be hard-pressed to defeat any ship of the lesser races. You say you could not abide the loss of honor in the surrender to the Earthers. Can you abide the humiliation of being no longer the most advanced, the strongest of the younger races? Can you?"

Neroon and the others of the Nine exchanged uneasy glances.

**USS _Enterprise_-A**

Captain Spock studied the reports from Commander Ivanova. Something about her experience disturbed him. His mind was being tickled by something overlooked. A beep sounded on Uhura's console. He halted his study and went over to the Kenyan woman's station, and waited as she listened intently to her earpiece.

Nyota Uhura looked up, looking worried. "The White Star reports they have contacted the Walkers of Sigma 957. They have refused to help us against the Borg, but they have made themselves available for our need against the Shadows."

Spock grimly nodded. "From what I have learned, that is a typical…'First One' response. It does not appear to be useful for the current crisis. We must, then, rely on ourselves."

Uhura sighed. They had spent years of their lives saving their home universe from the various threats. Now they had yet another universe to save. "If we are able, where would we go to stop the Borg? It might be too late to save Centauri Prime. If we manage to stop the cube, what can we do about three billion assimilated Centauri?"

A light finally came on in Spock's mind. He had, in a flash, figured out what was bothering him. "Thank you, Uhura. You have helped solved a dilemma for me. Although, the dilemma has become much larger."

Uhura was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Spock turned to the front of the bridge. "Mr. Chekov, please bring up the star maps for this reality."

The main viewscreen then became a star chart. "Mr. Chekov, locate the interuniversal transit point whereby we have entered this reality."

A red blinking star appeared right next to the double-stars of Zeta Reticuli.

Spock glanced down at the communications officer, adopting the pose of a lecturer in a Vulcan school. "Miss Uhura, this is where the Borg cube have transited into this universe and defeated a Centauri fleet. Now, look at the star system of Turan, also known as Quadrant 27."

Mr. Redpath turned to look at Spock. "Isn't that where we saved that Markab transport from a Centauri 'quarantine' action?"

"Indeed. It is also where a Centauri battlecruiser was attacked and assimilated by the Borg. As you can see, there is a straight line from the transit point to Turan. Beyond it, the line continues to Centauri Prime at Zeta Tucanae in a straight line. If you please, Mr. Chekov, pinpoint for us the location where the Borg made their next attack."

The star labeled 'Beata' was highlighted. "The straight line has now almost reached Centauri Prime," said Spock. "From what Commander Ivanova has seen through the Great Machine on Epsilon 3, the Borg defeated another Centauri fleet at the Davo System."

Chekov obliged Spock by highlighting another star, the star of Davo. The straight line was now no longer straight. It had sharply turned at Beata at an angle. Davo was the same distance from Beata as Centauri Prime was from Beata, but Davo was in another direction entirely. The Russian man pointed out, "Spock, we should have been hearing about a Borg attack on the Centauri homeworld by now."

"Indeed. Something happened at the Beata System which has changed the Borg's course. It was not a defeat. Otherwise, the Centauri would be boasting of it. No, the Borg has found another and more lucrative target to assimilate. Pavel, will you please forecast a straight line from Beata through Davo and keep drawing it across this area of the galaxy?"

The red line suddenly shot forth from Davo, crossing several star systems. Only one of the star systems was squarely in its path. The bridge crew recognized the system and gasped.

Uhura whispered, "Spock, isn't that…?"

"Yes, Uhura. What did the Borg attack at Beata?"

Horrified understanding came upon Uhura's handsome face. "A…a civilian luxury liner belonging to the Earth Alliance!"

**Akdor, Sh'lassien Triumvirate**

General Abbas Kossell glanced at the Nova-class destroyer EAS _Schwartzkopf_ hanging in orbit above the planet Akdor in a viewer on the Omega-class destroyer EAS _Midway_, and refocused on the abacus in his hands. He used the abacus to calculate the odds for battles and logistics. Here, he now used it to manage the logistics of the peacekeeping force on Akdor and the other two planets of the Sh'lassien Triumvirate. With the device invented by ancient Arabs, he had suppressed a new rebellion on the planet Hazor. As a reward for that, the Sh'lassien triumvirs legitimized the Earth occupation of the former rebel fortress of Matok on Akdor. Matok was now officially a military outpost of the Earth Alliance, thanks to General 'Abacus' as he was called by those who knew him.

A chirping beep sounded on the scanning officer's console. The general turned to her. "What you've got?"

"There's an unidentified ship approaching. It's odd…. It's flying in normal space, not hyperspace. Just came out of nowhere."

Abacus frowned at the officer strapped in her seat. "Alien?"

"Ummm, I'm not sure…. Let me put it up."

Abbas Kossell turned to watch the viewer. The view of the _Schwartzkopf_ was replaced with a small gray dot in the night sky.

The general leaned forward as far as possible in his chair harness, and squinted. "Focus on that and magnify."

The viewer now showed a vessel seemingly built of pipes in the shape of a cube.

Another officer spoke up. "Isn't that what is attacking the Centauri?"

Abbas 'Abacus' Kossell grimly nodded. It would appear that the Centauri were not the only target for the invaders. If the Centauri had failed to stop them, then the Earthers would have work that much harder to save themselves. "Mister Gairon, dispatch a tachyon message to General Richard Franklin at Earth Central…. We have engaged the Borg in the Sh'lassien System."

Abacus could see and hear most of his bridge officers making their reactions, varying from widened eyes, intakes of breath to grim determination.

Suddenly, the cubical ship vanished from the viewer with a streak.

"Sir! The alien vessel is in orbit of Akdor!"

Abacus stared at the scanning officer as the viewer switched to show the cube hanging just beyond General Franklin's former command ship. The _Schwartzkopf_ was now turning to face the Borg. "Are the scanners working?"

"Yes, general. Could be an advanced point-jump capability. It could even be the space distortion drive that the Federationers seem to have at Babylon 5."

The communications officer reported, "The alien is talking."

"On speakers."

"_We are the Borg. Existence as you know it is over. Disarm all weapons and surrender your ships. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."_

General 'Abacus' looked down at his abacus. He knew that EarthForce only had three ships in the system. A Nova, an Olympic corvette and an Omega, the Omega destroyer being his own ship. He knew that the Centauri tried to resist with much larger fleets and failed. The next order would be very difficult, but necessary.

"Mister Gairon, warn the Sh'lassien government. Order all personnel at Matok to hunker down for a possible siege. We will be back for them. All ships: open jumppoints and retreat. Repeat: all ships retreat!"

The Borg cube latched onto the _Schwartzkopf_ with a dark blue tractor beam as the _Midway_ opened a jumppoint and fled into hyperspace. Elsewhere, a patrolling Olympic-class corvette fired thrusters to rush into an activating Sh'lassien jumpgate.

**USS _Enterprise_-A**

Galen walked briskly through a corridor, passing several crewmen and women, most of whom glanced at the robed technomage curiously. Even after all the time of staying on the Federation starship, he was a mystery to most of the crew. He didn't care. All he cared about was the integrity of this universe and the Light. Now, both of them were in danger.

Arriving at an entrance, Galen waved at the door, using technomagic to override the door's mechanism. He didn't have the time or patience for the niceties of knocking or ringing the bell and waiting for the occupant's permission to enter. Barging through the opening door, he could see Captain Kirk sitting in a chair, reading a leather-bound book. _A Tale of Two Cities_. Galen smiled mirthlessly at the book. How appropriate.

"James, we must move! The universe waits for no man!"

Kirk looked up over his spectacles quizzically. "Excuse me, Galen. Perhaps you have forgotten to knock before entering…?"

Galen snorted. "The stars will be swept aside and you're worried about civility?" The technomage shook his head and withdrew a hand from inside his robes. In his hand was a small crystal ball. Galen held the ball forward for Kirk to see closely.

At first, all Kirk could see was his own face made to appear upside-down in the crystal ball. Then he thought he could see a cubical ship moving through the starry darkness of the crystal ball. The Borg. Light flashed from within the ball as the cube attacked what appeared to be an Earth Nova-class destroyer.

Kirk looked up at Galen with surprise as the technomage quickly put the crystal ball back inside his dark robes. "Is that real?"

"As real as the dead! The Borg has decided to invade the Earth Alliance!"

Kirk stood up quickly from his reading chair, alarmed.

Galen continued to speak, his eyes almost sparkling at Kirk. "There is something at Earth that could stop the Borg. We must go there."

**Royal Palace, Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

A knocked sounded on the door to Londo's suite in the Royal Palace. A Centauri woman came in and informed the ambassador that a message came for him from Babylon 5. Londo thanked her. The female upper-echelon palace servant turned to leave.

"Wait." Londo eyed the woman up and down. In spite of her status as a high servant, she was dressed like a minor noble lady. She would do just fine. "Take off your clothes."

The woman bowed and immediately undressed, revealing her naked body. With an experienced eye, Londo appreciated her beauty.

The woman restrained herself from fidgeting under the ambassador's eyes. "What would my lord like to do?"

"I want to borrow your clothes."

The woman looked up at Londo and smiled. "Ahhh, of course. Emperor Cartagia also plays this game with me, but…I'm not your size, milord."

Londo smiled. "Oh, I'll make do."

xxxxxxxxx

Londo Mollari thanked Royal Guardsman who had guided him through the dark underbelly of the Royal Palace. Bribery would keep him silent about this. If a whiff of this appeared anywhere on the planet, poison would silence him forever. The Guardsman opened the cell door and Londo entered, holding aloft a glowglobe, and holding a bag in the other hand.

A Narn woman chained to a grimy wall looked up, red angry eyes squinting at the light. She growled softly with recognition.

"Hello, Na'toth. I'm here to help you get your revenge."

Londo upended the bag, letting the high servant's dress and the veils of a Centauri lady fall out. He pressed a hand against one of his pockets, feeling a medallion in it and smiled as Na'toth looked at the elaborate dress with confusion.


	20. A Wolf in Battle

**Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

Emperor Narleeth Cartagia Jarn walked down a garden path, looking around. The Republican Gardens was breathtakingly beautiful and the colorful plants blocked the colonnade that surrounded it and closed it off from the public. Beyond was the hill that supported the Royal Palace above the river flowing through Imperial City. On the other side of the gardens, but adjoining the colonnade, was the vast dome of the Centaurum. Such a large and beautiful waste of space in the capital. Cartagia nodded. Perhaps he should build a temple to himself in the Gardens. But the Emperor was not a patient man. Perhaps…it would be much quicker and cheaper to commandeer the Coronation Temple. After all, once he becomes a god, the Centauri people won't have any more emperors. He would be known as…the GodEmperor!

But he wasn't there to look for a site for his temple. He frowned as he searched among the crowd of plants, fountains, decorative statues and birds. He wasn't afraid. There was no reason to be afraid. After all, the Royal Guards had the garden walls secured. Plus, he _is_ the Emperor!

A Centauri lady appeared out of the foliage. Heavy veils hid her face and every inch of her skin was covered in her elaborate dress. Cartagia smirked. He recognized the dress as belonging to one of the high servants in the Palace. He liked to peel off, or rather tear off, clothes as he would open a present as a child. She was learning. Good!

And he fondly remembered the games that children played outside. They were outside in the sun now and they were alone. Good! Although an audience would make it better…perhaps he should summon the guards from outside to come in the gardens? No time. He was not a patient man. Cartagia raised his arms toward the lady, the shirt on his chest already stirring with his anticipation.

The lady approached and whispered, "Cartagia."

She repeated the name, this time with a normal voice although raspy. She was already in that state of the appropriate female attitude. The Emperor smiled. She _is_ learning! But if she starts developing attachments….

"Cartagia!" The veiled lady was now screaming and running at the Emperor, the sun glinting off the metal of a dagger in her upraised hand.

Cartagia was stunned and couldn't move in his sudden fear and surprise. Murder! His eyes focused on the dagger, blinded by the sun shining off the gleaming onrushing metal.

A golden light flashed through the plants, striking the screaming lady in her exposed side. She gasped in surprise, dropped the dagger and collapsed onto the garden path. Cartagia finally breathed and looked to the source of the weapon. A god coming to save him? The flowering plants rustled and Londo Mollari stepped through. His face was grim and he was holding a Royal Guardsman's Tromo plasma gun.

Cartagia narrowed his eyes with suspicion. Was this really the pride of getting the first strike on his sacred person in assassination?

"Majesty," said Londo, "check the woman. I'll look around to see if there are any more assassins around." With that, the ambassador quickly went down the path where the lady walked from. As the Emperor, now trembling from his momentary fright, frisked the lady. His movements caused the heavy veils to fall away from her face. A look of shocked betrayal was frozen on her face, but…it was a female Narn face! Cartagia's eyes bulged and his gloved hands jerked back from the dirty creature.

The sound of a plasma bolt discharging came through the gardens caused Cartagia to jerk himself upright, eyes wide as saucers. Londo came back, his lips twisted in distaste. "Only a Guardsman. A traitor."

The Emperor wordlessly gestured down at the 'Centauri lady' on the ground. The ambassador glanced down at the Narn woman. His eyebrows drew together in a frown. Na'toth. "I see, Majesty. Have you found anything to identify how she escaped and was able to reach your sacred self?"

Cartagia looked down at the dead Narn as if she was a writhing mass of poison snakes and shook his head.

Londo sighed and began to frisk Na'toth's body. Stopping at a billowing sleeve, he tore at it and reached inside. He pulled out a golden medallion. Eyebrows rising with recognition at the object, he handed it to the Emperor.

The medallion was Centauri. It was a _tessuro_ medallion. It must have been how the 'lady' was able to get past the guards around the Republican Gardens. Cartagia squinted at the symbols on it and rage began to distort his face. It was a _tessuro_ of House Refa. It belonged to Lord Antono Refa, to be precise.

"Refa! I should have known he would act in bad faith as my…my…_trusted_ counselor!" Cartagia tried to crush the medallion, but he wasn't GodEmperor yet.

Londo sighed in sympathy. "Majesty, we must think clearly about this. The medallion could have been stolen. What are you doing here, all alone with the guards outside at the walls? It's terribly dangerous, I think."

Cartagia opened and closed his mouth several times before answering. "I-I got…an invitation to a private picnic here. The letter was signed by the Lady Celes."

Londo appeared surprised and confused. "Celes? The wife of Refa? But why use a Narn? Any of our people would do for the right price."

The Imperial mind worked furiously at untangling the web spun by the traitor Refa in the Great Game, the Game of Houses. "He was responsible for the bombing of Narn. He chose the Imperial Overseer, the viceroy, for Narn. His House now holds lands on Narn and many of the former Narn colonies." Cartagia's face brightened with a horrible realization. "Great Maker! Refa must think that the road to _my_ throne goes through Narn!"

Londo opened his mouth in an act of awe at the Emperor's divine powers of deduction. "Great Maker…. That's terrible, Majesty!" He shook his head in disappointment. "And he was supposed to have the Great Republic in his best interests. Power _does_ attract corrupt men! But even this…_twisted_ violence in his soul surprises me!"

Cartagia drew himself up straight and puffed out his chest. "My dear Londo, I _am_ the Emperor. I _am_ the Republic. Is not one of my titles 'the Empire Made Flesh'? It is _my_ responsibility to touch matters of darkness from my lofty pure position. Londo, we are in your debt!"

Londo Mollari bowed deeply. "I am only a lowly Centauri here to serve you, my Emperor." His face now hidden from Cartagia, Londo stole a regretful glance at the dead face of Na'toth. He remembered the words of the technomage Elric as he prophesied for Londo.

_I hear sounds…the sounds of billions of people calling your name._

_My followers?_

_Your victims…._

**Babylon 5**

Susan Ivanova nodded her respects for Captain Sheridan as he hurried into the shuttle that would take him to _White Star_. The Borg crisis has just become more urgent when the news came of EarthForce's encounter with the Borg cube at Akdor in the Sh'lassien Triumvirate. The Centauri were one thing, but this was _Earth_, their homeworld!

As the shuttle was lifting for departure out of the docking bay to the jumpgate, Ivanova raised her comlink to her lips. "Ivanova to _Enterprise_. I'm ready!" She then shut her eyes closed in anticipation. She immediately felt a momentary soft tingling. When the tingle was completely gone, she opened her eyes to find herself in the transporter room of Captain Kirk's starship.

Captain Spock was there to escort her to the bridge. Ivanova nodded once more at him as she went to walk beside him. There was no need for words. They knew the reason for her presence. She was to be the EarthForce liaison for the Federation starship during the Borg crisis. Too bad the First Ones, especially the Walkers of Sigma 957, wouldn't help. She knew that by now, the Federation Ambassador Miranda Jones would be petitioning Ambassador Kosh for help.

Soon enough, the turbolift they were riding in halted at the bridge. The starship had already impressed her with its bright clean lines, and machines that spoke of fantastic complex technologies that resulted from the cooperation of many diverse species. The doors of the turbolift parted to reveal the impossibly spacious bridge. That odd technomage was standing by the command chair, studying the Russian woman. Ivanova eagerly drank in the sight and looked at each crewmember. Her eyes stopped at a crewman at what must be the ship's helms. The Federationers have been infiltrated already! Her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open in shock. The crewman merely stared back blankly. She immediately slammed all barriers down around her mind.

"Bester…?"

xxxxxxxxx

Ambassador Miranda Jones adjusted her gown and sensor net, then made sure her breather mask was firmly on her face. She pressed the doorchime as the gas mist swirled around her in the corridor.

The door slid open. Miranda entered and her jeweled sensor net registered the presence of Ambassador Kosh and Lyta Alexander. Lyta was studying Miranda with barely disguised distaste. Miranda knew about the Vorlon dislike of her people. She spoke without preamble.

"Ambassador, as you may know, the Borg are invading the Earth Alliance."

Lyta sniffed with disdain. Kosh simply remained as he was, silently.

"Earth in this universe do not have the technological capability to resist the Borg, but it has no choice but try to repel the invaders. Nobody wants to fight a war unless they know there's at least a chance of winning. As one of the older races, the technology of the Vorlon Empire has to be good enough to make the Borg think twice about assimilating the Earthers or anyone else. If we could convince your government to send out a fleet to engage the Borg…."

Windchime-like tones floated out of the Vorlon ambassador's encounter suit. **"No."**

Lyta moved in front of Kosh protectively and stood up straight with fists at her waist. "Have you done enough damage, Miss Jones? You should have done what Kosh asked you to do long ago. Leave. Now."

Miranda waved dismissively, causing the mist to swirl even more around herself. "We are here. We cannot change that. That argument should stay in the past. We are asking you to help us fix the…'damages' you say we have caused. Do nothing and the Borg will assimilate Earth. After that, the assimilation will, _will_, spread across Known Space. By then, perhaps not even the Vorlon Empire would be able to resist!"

"**Perhaps. It is not our time. It is yours. We are not prepared yet."**

Lyta looked at Kosh with surprise. Why was the Vorlon admitting that much to the intruder Miranda?

Miranda's face fell. "You…you wouldn't even help? Not even when your own empire is at risk from the Borg?"

"**The infection is your responsibility."**

Miranda was getting angry. "I know! Stop throwing that in my face! If you stop being self-righteous and start helping the younger races—" She paused as her sensor net registered Kosh opening his eyepiece and slowly closing it again, menacingly. She was getting to him now.

xxxxxxxx

A tech in Babylon 5's C&C frowned as he leaned closer to the monitor showing the space station's internal sensors. They were detecting a non-localized energy surge.

xxxxxxxx

Miranda took a deep breath, ignoring Lyta's sharp intake of breath. She also sensed a gathering of…power in the Vorlon ambassador. "Ambassador, lives are at stake here! Innocent lives! Billions of them! Do they all matter so little to you? I don't believe that! We know about the last great war a thousand years ago. We know that the Vorlon Empire cared enough to help the younger worlds of that time even if some of them are dead now. Like Vulcan in this universe. Only hundreds, if not thousands, survived out of a population of billions! Only…this time, if the Borg succeed, worlds won't die. Instead, entire worlds will serve the Borg! Billions will be drones seeking to assimilate yet more worlds! Not even Minbar would be safe. It would only be a matter of time before their might is turned against the Vorlon Empire itself!"

Kosh remained standing, silently, his eyepiece still narrowed at Miranda.

"Is that what you want, Kosh? Death from inactivity…. Oh well, we might do better with the Shadows helping us!"

Kosh's eyepiece began to glow. Lyta widened her eyes at that and hissed at Miranda for mentioning the Shadows. She gingerly stepped back away from between Kosh and the Federation ambassador.

"Yes…. We know about the Shadows. We don't like what we know of them, but they still pay a hell lot more attention to the younger races than you have! All you have done is stand there and look cryptic. Perhaps _they_ will handle the Borg much better than you. When they do, they will _earn_ the respect of all the races for having saved them!"

**"Incorrect!"**

The Vorlon eyepiece glowed even more brightly for a moment and an invisible force pushed Miranda Jones backward into a wall. As she shakily picked herself up from the floor, Kosh spoke once more.

**"Leave. Now!"**

Miranda ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. "I see that you are as dense as that encounter suit of yours. Do not come crying to us when the Borg starts sending cubes into your space. Good day, Ambassador!"

The Federation ambassador primly picked at her jeweled gown, lifted her nose up in the misty air and left Kosh's quarters, her expression of disdain spoiled only by the breather mask.

Lyta Alexander could not believe it. Kosh actually got mad! Not that the interloper deserved it, but seeing a primitive being angering a Vorlon—! In addition to her talk of Shadows, it was tantamount to an unvoiced declaration of war! She turned to look at Kosh with concern. She got another surprise.

Ambassador Kosh was slowly turning away, letting his head hang. Kosh was…feeling _ashamed_!

xxxxxxxx

"Bester…?"

Pavel Chekov was looking puzzled. "I'm…sorry?"

Ivanova's face darkened with anger and suspicion. "Do NOT give me that fake Russian accent! It's an insult to Mother Russia!"

It was Chekov's turn to appear insulted. "And you, madam, are not a real Russian if you cannot recognize a fellow Russian! I am not this Bester you speak of. I am Pavel Andreievich Chekov, rank: Commander, serial number: 656-5827B. A pure-blooded Slav born in Taganrog, Russia! Can you say the same thing for Mother Russia?"

Ivanova was taken aback. He seemed to be telling the truth, even if he was a dead ringer for Bester. Now that she could look again, this Chekov did seem slightly younger than Bester and seemed to have a flatter forehead than the PsiCop. It was that parallel universe crap again. It was so unnerving. She finally relaxed a bit and nodded at him. "Susan Ivanova, daughter of Andrei and Sofie Ivanov, born in St. Petersburg, in the Russian Consortium. I…I thought you would be singing the song of 'The Corps is Mother, the Corps is Father.'"

Chekov frowned. "The Corps?"

Now thoroughly embarrassed of her knee-jerk reaction, Ivanova said, "Um yes. Your counterpart in this universe is Alfred Bester. He is a…a PsiCop. A hound dog for the PsiCorps."

Eyebrows rising, Chekov looked at Ivanova sideway. "My…counterpart is…a telepath?"

"Yes. A powerful one. P12. Trust me when I say do not cross paths with that man. He _will_ dissect you. With telepathy or some other way, he will dissect you."

Chekov shook his head. He wasn't sure what he was feeling now. A chill like someone walked on his grave. A soft horror. A morbid fascination. Perhaps this was how Kirk, Scotty, McCoy and Uhura felt when they found out about their counterparts in the Terran Empire mirror universe.

Galen studied it all with his own fascination. It would be interesting to him if Chekov and Bester met in person. The spell was broken when the turbolift doors opened again, admitting Captain Kirk to the bridge.

"I have just been informed that all jumpgates in the Earth Alliance are closed to all vessels except Earth ships. That includes the Babylon 5 Jumpgate. So, Scotty, I want you to get as much as you can from the warp core."

Scotty nodded. "Ye can count on us, sir!"

Kirk turned to the technomage.

"Ok, Mr. Galen. You said there is something at Earth that could stop the Borg. What is it?"

The technomage held forth his staff as he looked at each person on the bridge. "Eons ago, even before the First Ones walked openly among the stars and built vast beautiful and terrible empires, there was one species. We do not know what they called themselves. Only that we know them as the First of the First Ones. Sometimes they are called simply the Ancients, even by other First Ones. I understand that in your universe, Captain Kirk, they are called the Preservers."

The crewmembers were surprised at that.

"Yes. The Preservers. Or the Progenitors. No matter the names, they were the first to achieve sentience and the first to travel the universe. Very little remains from their ancient civilization. An obelisk there, a piece of technology here. My ship is partly derived from their technology found by traveling technomages. Bits, fragments of fragments, really, remain of their history. Jihads. A great empire spanning three whole galaxies or more. A GodEmperor. Stories of prescient witches. Messiahs. Foldspace, the ability to go from one point in the universe to any other point without moving at all in no time at all. Their power was beyond even us technomages, perhaps even beyond the First Ones themselves. They use the minds of Navigators to fold space rather than machines. Starships big enough to hold all the fleets in Known Space inside themselves. The Spacing Guild."

Ivanova started and chuckled nervously and incredulously. "Wait. They had a guild devoted to executions? To space people?"

Galen haughtily looked at Ivanova. "We do not know precisely. It is more likely it was an organization that helped handle interstellar travel and commerce for that civilization. Their last generations acted as shepherds for the ancestors of the current First Ones. We do not precisely know why, but eventually their civilization faded before dying out. There were indications in several of their outposts of a widespread plague. But we think they had evolved to the point where they had Ascended en masse. Only one clear sentence has come down to us from the Ancients: 'The Spice must flow.'" The technomage shrugged. "Only they could know what that exactly means."

Dr. McCoy held up a hand. "All that is very interesting, I'm sure. But what the hell does it have to do with us? We found one of their obelisks ourselves and all it did was protect a planet from a damned asteroid, and only if there was someone there to push the button!"

A smile appeared to be trying to tug at Galen's lips, but it failed. "As I said, there were several outposts remaining, scattered far from each other throughout the galaxy. One of them is on Earth."

Ivanova was startled. "Earth! Then why haven't we learned of it?"

"But you do. You even have _legends_ of it. Atlantis."

Kirk looked incredulous. "Atlantis? Ok, presuming all this is true, what can this outpost do for us?"

"Each outpost is outfitted with advanced weaponry for defense, enough to defeat a fleet of Shadow ships. Even then, the Ancients knew they should protect themselves especially with Shadows prowling in space where once their empire ruled. If this particular outpost is fitted out as it was supposed to be, it may not too difficult for its defenses to vanquish the Borg."

"This is great!" said Kirk gleefully. Perhaps for once, the universe was turning in his favor. "Where exactly is it?"

"The Ancient outpost on Earth is hidden in the ice of Antarctica. The Vorlons once used the outpost to hide and implant telepathy into humanity. It is now our turn to use the outpost."

Ivanova stared silently. The Vorlons introduced telepathy to humanity? She could blame them for her mother, but in reality, it was the humans' own fault that telepathy was so grossly abused.

A beep sounded in Uhura's console. The Kenyan woman listened for a while before relaying what she heard to the people on the bridge. "We have intercepted tachyon messages from EarthDome. EarthForce is sending 73 warships to stop the Borg at Wolf 359."

"Good!" said Kirk. "Good to finally see EarthForce taking things so seriously! Hopefully, that will delay the Borg long enough for us to reach Earth." Kirk excitedly pointed at Ensign Redpath and Chekov. "Plot a course for Earth!"

Chekov reported, "Sir, it will take us through the Wolf 359 System."

"Fine! We can see EarthForce's handiwork before going to Sol. Maximum warp, go!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" answered Ensign Redpath.

The _Enterprise_ maneuvered herself into the plotted course, stretched itself out and vanished into warp.

**EAS _Midway_, in Hyperspace**

General Abbas 'Abacus' Kossell was speaking to a general on the tachcomm monitor. "The _Midway_ will be there, sir. A bit late, but we'll be there."

The aging General Lefcourt nodded. _"We are mobilizing a fleet of 72 warships at Wolf 359…73 when you arrive. That's just for starters. The Centauri are honoring our alliance by sending warships there…."_ Lefcourt chuckled mirthlessly. _"Hell, we're even thinking of asking the Minbari!"_

General Abacus nodded and hoped it would be enough to stop the Borg in their tracks. "You realize, General, that the Centauri have tried to stop them with bigger fleets and we must admit that their warships are more advanced than ours."

Lefcourt looked reluctant to admit to that truth. Finally, he nodded. _"In less than 24 hours, our armada's going to hit that Borg vessel with everything we have. Either we survive…or they do."_ Lefcourt sighed heavily. _"It's the Minbari War all over again. Perhaps it was a good thing that those extra-universal ships didn't go against us, after all, no matter what the President says."_

Abacus nervously watched Lefcourt. He chose to remain silent about Lefcourt's last statement. That could be construed as treason these days, but the aging general was old now. People, when they get old or especially when this close to possible death, no longer cared about caution in life. Abacus himself was still young enough to want a long profitable career in EarthForce.

His executive officer informed General Abacus that they were arriving at the coordinates. He said, "Thanks, Tobias. Jump when ready."

General Lefcourt, having heard that, straightened as much as he could in his command chair and raised a hand to his forehead in the military salute. _"Thank you, General. Now we can be…brothers in battle. For the rest of today…we live together…and die together."_

As the _Midway_ slipped out of its jumppoint to join its sister Omegas alongside the Hyperions and Novas also making up the fleet at Wolf 359.

Abacus had one last thing to say before signing off and waiting for the Borg to come. He imitated Lefcourt's military salute. "And you, General…are my battle-brother…for today."

**USS _Excelsior_**

Janice Rand unconsciously cocked her head to the side as she listened carefully to the sounds coming out of her earpiece. Tachyon communication traffic has increased intensely lately due to the Borg incursion into the Earth Alliance. She turned to look at Captain Sulu standing in the center of the bridge. Sulu was now arguing with a Drazi on the main viewscreen. For a moment, she listened to what Sulu was saying.

"You owe Earth a lot, mister! They helped you in the Dilgar War. When the Minbari went to war against Earth, they came to you for help. You just stood by and did nothing while the Minbari pushed humanity to the brink of extinction! This time, you have a chance to show your gratitude for Earth saving you from the Dilgars!"

"We know this. We want repay debt. Who can command us? Who can we command? Too many drops of bad blood in League."

Sulu was getting more and more frustrated with this kind of stubbornness. He was getting fed up with encountering this with every race he met at Abba IV.

Janice caught something in the subspace bands. She hated to interrupt this kind of heated argument, but she must. "Captain…. _Enterprise_ is going to Earth. She is advising us that EarthForce is mustering a fleet at Wolf 359. We are urged to either assist _Enterprise_ or the fleet at Wolf 359."

Sulu was now looking grim and turned back to the Drazi onscreen. Time was running out now. "Ok! I have had enough of this foolishness. You want someone who have no history of antagonism with any of you? You got it!" He swirled around and jabbed a finger at the Capellan chief of security on his starship. Leonard James Akaar was startled. "Mr. Akaar, I'm hereby promoting you to the field commission of Commodore. Don't argue about Starfleet regulations. Go right now!"

Akaar stared at Sulu as if he had gone insane, while the Drazi onscreen was sputtering protests.

"What are you waiting for, Mister Akaar? For me to push you out the nearest airlock? Go!"

Akaar practically ran to the turbolift, its door opening almost too slowly for him.

Sulu grunted with satisfaction and turned to face the main viewscreen. "If you do not accept his command, I'm going to personally make sure the Centauri conquer your homeworld, Zhabar, itself! Screen off!" As the squawking Drazi was replaced with the view of the beautiful Abbai homeworld and ships of all kinds hovering in orbit above the planet, Sulu gave one more order.

"Mr. Tiffe, once Akaar has transported, take us to Earth on the double! Give us _more_ than maximum warp!"

The Italian man swallowed and said, "Yessir!"

**Centauri Prime**

Londo Mollari was tired. He had managed to convince the Emperor to hold off striking at Lord Refa till later, to bide his time. Also, he had managed to convince him to give him Refa's _tessuro_ medallion. But now, he must keep up appearances at Court. Cartagia was now giving out a decree from the Imperial Throne.

"Grand Fleet Admiral Dromo, you shall send our ships to help the humans. The invaders had violated our space and they still must pay for their impudence. When anyone violated the Republic, he violates my person! Go and teach the ummm…the Burgers a lesson in Centauri justice!"

Amazing how an assassination attempt had strengthened and straightened the Emperor lately. Nothing like a brush with death to give someone character!

He hoped this kind of Imperial lucidity would last.

Cartagia then waved for a court scribe to come forward. The Emperor appeared to be thinking, trying to come up with a new decree to give out for the Centauri Republic to follow. Then Fate chose this moment to give Lord Dugari a coughing fit. Again.

Cartagia's sharp eyes flashed to the coughing lord, and the Royal Court froze, including Dugari who was now muffling his coughs into a handkerchief. Even Minister Virini stopped making foolish eye and hand movements.

Cartagia tapped his lips with a finger, thinking and narrowing his eyes at Dugari. He imperiously pointed the finger at the Royal Guardsmen at the grand entrance. "Bring us the test model!"

The Guards bowed and left the throne room. Shortly after, they brought in a wooden structure on a low, wheeled platform. The entire Court studied the structure, puzzlement filling every face in the chamber. It was tall, its top nearly grazing the top of the grand doors and the bottom tip of the chandeliers. A bench was attached to the back of the structure, two wooden beams supported a wide wooden board at the top. Between the beams and stuck under the board was a wide blade, its bottom edge slanted diagonally. From the way the light played on the edge, it was extremely sharp. At where the bench was attached to the structure, two boards were held together, through which was an open circle.

The study by the Court became uneasy as theories about its purpose popped into minds.

Cartagia proudly gestured at the apparatus. "In our studies of the history of our friends on Earth, the humans sometimes seem very Centauri. The humans invented this in the midst of one of their boring repetitive turmoils. In that turmoil, too many people needed to die that the headmen of the time were getting too overworked, too clumsy, too slow. They needed a machine of death that would be…quick, painless, merciful and yet swift in justice. Very Centauri, isn't it? Thousands lost their heads in the device. The humans even used this to execute a king and a queen!" Cartagia then gave a hard look at the whole Court, including Refa and Londo who was now feeling Vir's weakness in himself. "Too bad the humans stopped using it long before our First Contact with them. Otherwise, we would have immediately adopted it into our justice system! It is called…a guillotine!"

The Court still silently stared at the device uneasily.

Cartagia clapped his hands and pointed at Lord Dugari. As the Royal Guards grabbed him, the Emperor said, "It is time for us to test it for ourselves! In my studies, I came across an…amusing joke concerning the guillotine. The humans once said it was the ideal cure for a cold. We shall test even that joke!" The Emperor laughed and the Court followed with a half-hearted, weak chuckle.

xxxxxxxx

Londo tiredly entered his suite in the Palace. His wife, Lady Timov was there to receive him. She primly pursed her lips.

"You think you can take care of the Emperor better than Refa?"

Londo waved her off and went to another room of the suite. He had regretted not giving in to the momentary temptation of letting Na'toth kill Cartagia when the Emperor turned from the 'test' and said, "Ah! Looks like I have cured Dugari's impossible coughing sickness!" Then he laughed. Laughed! The Emperor had laughed while Dugari's head was still warm and bleeding in the basket below that ghastly, although admittedly very Centauri, human device.

Insane!

Timov followed Londo. "Looks like your schemes about Refa weren't necessary after all. The Borg are attacking the Earthers. Serve the humans right for inventing such a ghastly machine! How in the underworld did you think you'd save Centauri Prime? By now, we'd be dead or worse! Come to think of it, Cartagia _can_ make life worse than with us Borgified! Well done! Oh, very well done, Londo!"

Londo wearily looked at his wife from under heavy eyebrows. "Timov?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "What, Londo?"

"Shut up."

**Wolf 359**

General Abacus hated waiting. This was the worst part of any battle…the waiting. The anxious waiting with eyes searching the heavens for that opening jumppoint that would signal the arrival of an enemy ship or fleet. Only this time, the Borg wouldn't be using jumpengines. They used some type of distortion drive that allowed them to move faster than light through normal space without the dangers of time dilation. The best analysts of EarthForce had determined the possible path taken by the Borg. Normally, with jump tech, this was not possible and an educated guess depended on how often the enemy struck targets before reaching you. The Borg, so far, had kept to a straight line from Centauri space through the Sh'lassien System. Wolf 359 was the last system for the Borg to cross before reaching Sol itself. The EarthForce armada was supposed to be situated where the Borg couldn't help but stop before ramming through the warships at superluminal speeds.

Abacus winced at the thought. He hoped the Borg didn't choose to actually do that!

Suddenly, jumppoints tore open to the side of the fleet.

"What the fuck? I thought they don't have jump tech!"

The scanner operator let out a surprised yelp. "No, General! It's not the Borg…. It's the Minbari! I'm counting…twenty! Twenty Sharlin-class warcruisers."

Abacus ordered, "Open tachlink to General Lefcourt! I want to hear what he's saying before we shoot and start another war with them!"

The crew waited anxiously. Then they saw the Minbari warcruisers move slowly to join the fleet. A female officer quietly said, "Amida Buddha! They're only here to help us! Maybe we'll win this after all!"

The scanner operator called out his readings. "Confirmed. The warcruisers are taking up positions within the fleet and launching fighters. Gunports are open, but minimal energy, repeat minimal energy!"

Abacus almost slumped in his chair with relief. Aliens may be filthy for Earth and be expected to take advantage of this situation, but this was a miracle. He sent up his immensely grateful thanks to Heaven. He immediately straightened again as Lefcourt came back on the tachcomm monitor. "Hey, General! Glad you've decided to ask the Minbari."

"It wasn't us. Seems their government has decided it would be a mistake to let the Borg kill us." 

Abacus grinned mischievously. "Not that I'm not thankful—I am! I wonder what EarthGov will say about aliens helping us so generously?"

Lefcourt almost chuckled. _"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth."_

The scanner officer shouted once more. "Sir! Jumppoints opening!"

General Abacus' jaw went slack as he watched ships slip out of the jumppoints. This time, they were ships from the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. He looked at the scanner operator who then named each race who sent the ships. "I'm reading…twelve Drazi sunhawks, one Hyach capital ship with six gunboats, three Markab cruisers, nine Yolu battlecruisers, one Ipsha battleglobe, ten Vree Xill-class saucers, six Brakiri Avioki-class cruisers, one Narn G'Quon-class cruiser, seven Hurr gunships and two Abbai frigates!"

Abacus stared with wide eyes and exchanged a look with his first officer, Tobias. That was a total of 51 League ships!

"Sir, they're hailing us."

The monitor lit up to show a _human_, of all things, but a human in a Starfleet uniform with a fringed golden sash. He raised placating hands. _"This is Commodore Leonard James Akaar on the _Valifee_, commanding the fleet for the Interstellar Alliance. We have come to assist. We come in peace and we wish to help you fight the Borg."_

Abacus' face screwed with confusion at the image of Akaar. "What in all the hells is the Interstellar Alliance?"

xxxxxxxx

The fleet had looked impressive at Abba IV. Coming into Wolf 359, they now appeared less so. It was a mix of ships from the now-former League of Non-Aligned Worlds, plus one Narn cruiser hired to represent the Gaim. Nevertheless, Akaar knew that this fleet, improved with Federation technologies given to the Abbai, could sweep aside the larger EarthForce armada. For now, it was the most visible symbol of various races coming together, to cooperate and work together for a common goal, and to help others.

Akaar, standing on the bridge of the Vree Xill-class saucer _Valifee_, assessed the situation. This expedition was risky and uncertain, but it was necessary. It was necessary to announce the existence of the Interstellar Alliance to all who cared to know, to establish the infant Alliance as a force to be reckoned with, and to show everyone, especially the Earth Alliance humans that aliens can work together in harmony. The Interstellar Alliance, however, was here because of Captain James Tiberius Kirk. The Alliance fleet was here because of Kirk.

Akaar had not wanted to be here. But he had a duty to Starfleet, even if Starfleet didn't exist in this universe. No…. That wasn't right. There _is_ a Starfleet now: the Interstellar Alliance itself. Even if this battle won't be a victory for anyone in Wolf 359, Akaar was proud to take part in this historic battle. He would then be known as the man who showed the banners of the Interstellar Alliance to the whole galaxy. His mother, Regent Eleen, would be proud of him. The thought of his mother saddened him. He was as good as dead to her in this universe. With no High Teer for her to be regent for, the Ten Tribes of Capella IV would fall back to fighting each other, putting forth Teer after Teer for the High Teership.

No matter. _This_ was even more historic than any High Teer could ever achieve on Capella IV.

He glanced at the Gaim soldiers standing at attention, suppressing the instinctive human chill at the sight. These Gaim, unlike their ambassador on Babylon 5, were quite insectoid. Even more insectoidal than the Xindi-Insects. By all accounts, they were the best soldiers in Known Space. When the Narns invaded their homeworld of N'chak'fah, the much more primitive Gaim were able to easily repel the Narn landing troops. So to combat any Borg who might transport over, Akaar had ordered the Gaim to station troops on all ships of the Alliance, except for the Drazi sunhawks. Drazi could do well enough in hand-to-hand combat, as could the Narns on their own sole cruiser in the fleet.

His eyes went to the two Vree in the command center studying the hologram of the fleets in the center of the bridge. "Well, Hachee, Kamahi, I guess we wait."

**USS _Excelsior_**

"Sir!" called Kruton Lojur, "Engines are at recommended safety maximum!"

The starship now seemed to thrum, to hum loudly with power. Captain Sulu glared at the Alpha Centaurian. "_Recommended_ safety maximum. There is another maximum above that, isn't there?"

"Uhhh, yes sir, but—"

"Mister Lojur, this ship was designed for the Transwarp Experiment. She can take it. We can't do hyperwarp now, but we must make do. Take us up to that other maximum."

"Yessir."

**Wolf 359**

Jumppoints opened yet again. This time, it was 14 Centauri warships with Vorchans outnumbering the Primuses by far. After a tense moment of the Centauri facing off the Narn and some of the Alliance ships and Akaar working hard to keep his people in line, the Centauri ships took up their own positions within the EarthForce fleet. Now the combined fleets at Wolf 359 numbered 158 ships, not counting the clouds of fighters now creating a defensive screen in front of the allied fleets.

They didn't have long to wait to see if such a large and varied fleet could stop the Borg. Commodore Akaar, Generals Abacus and Lefcourt, and the other leaders among the Minbari and Centauri tensed as they saw the massive Borg cube drop out of warp, taking the breath out of almost everyone. Most did not really believe that realspace FTL technology actually existed, but here it was. The cube approached the fleet, dimly lit by the star of Wolf 359 in the distance. It opened tachyon frequencies with the entire opposing fleet.

All General Abacus could see was the vast interior of the cube, with faint movements here and there to indicate the location of drones within the mechanical honeycomb. Once more, he heard a voice like that of an entire stadium of people speaking as one.

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile. You will disarm all weapons and escort us to Earth. If you attempt to intervene, we will destroy you."

General Abacus shook his head in wonder and said rhetorically, "Are they even capable of being creative with their ultimatums?"

Tobias looked up from his tactical display. "Sir, General Lefcourt has deployed the _Georgetown_, the _Kronos_, and the _Minerva_."

So it begins. Abacus gave his first order of the battle. "This is for the _Schwartzkopf _and for Earth, people. Move us forward to position alpha. Load all missile tubes. Ready the cannons."

The _Midway_ fired its engines to push itself to its pre-ordained position for the battle, its centrifugal section slowly rotating around the main body of the warship. Starfuries connected to the ship also fired thrusters to keep pace with their mothership.

Finally, General Abacus' warship fired laser and pulse cannons, and missiles at the Borg cube which was grasping at a Minbari warcruiser with a tractor beam. The dark blue beam encountered force shields protecting the warcruiser and began to drain the shields. Meanwhile, weapons from all ships within range slammed into the broad side of the cube, nibbling at its body ferociously. When the shields on the Minbari warcruiser failed, the Borg sent out a cutting beam at it even as green Borg phasers lashed out at other ships milling against it. The cube was completely ignoring the swarming fighters pecking at it.

The cutting beam, which looked like a golden laser with a lightning bolt spiraling around it, drilled deep into the sapphire-blue angelfish-like warcruiser. A large explosion erupted out of the ship's side as a fusion reactor was breached by the cutting beam. Stunned, the warcruiser maneuvered itself away from the cube to regroup, flames roaring out of its gaping hole.

The cube then turned its attention to the _Midway_, sending out another tractor beam.

The ship shook as the dark blue tractor beam grabbed it. "Reverse thrusters! Break us out of their hold!" Abacus was not about to go down so early in the battle. The ship began to vibrate, setting the teeth of many crewmen to chattering.

"Reverse thrusters at maximum. Sir, we can't break out!"

"Aim at their emitter!"

Four hot red beams shot out of the _Midway_, triangulating at the Borg tractor beam emitter. Two more ships came to its rescue, one a Drazi sunhawk and the other a Yolu battlecruiser. They fired several rounds at the cube with little success. The Yolu ship then focused its molecular disassociators on the tractor beam emitter, causing a small explosion on the cube. The _Midway_ was then able to free itself from the Borg's hold.

"Full reverse! Maintain fire! Squadron Two to—"

An explosion on the bridge interrupted General Abacus. The world became blinding white for everyone in the bridge.

**USS _Enterprise_**

Uhura paled and turned to Captain Kirk. It was an announcement that the starship crew wouldn't like to hear. "Message from Lieutenant—I mean, Commodore Akaar, Captain."

Kirk grimly set his face to radiate confidence for the crew. "Go ahead, Uhura."

"He reports EarthForce has engaged the Borg at Wolf 359."

The people in the bridge grimly set themselves to study their consoles. Ivanova exchanged an uneasy glance with Kirk and Galen as the Federation starship continued at high warp towards Earth.


	21. Wolf 359

**ISN News Center, Geneva, Earth**

"Good evening, I'm Cynthia Torqueman. On the headline news today, the Senate hearings continue to investigate claims that President Clark faked an illness, preventing himself from remaining on EarthForce One when it exploded. The allegations that President Luis Santiago was assassinated with the collusion of Morgan Clark were dismissed by representatives of the President as attempts to destabilize the government in the face of alien threats."

Cynthia turned to another camera as a visual box appeared over her shoulder, showing a cubical ship of pipes over the planet Akdor. "The newly discovered alien race menacing our ally, the Centauri Republic, has made its intents known by attacking Earth Alliance forces in the Sh'lassien Triumvirate. General Lefcourt has been appointed by the President to combat the new race, which called itself the Borg. The Centauri Royal Navy has offered assistance against the menace. We go now to a report taped earlier on the general's command ship, the _Parmenion_."

The image of Cynthia was switched to one of a blonde wearing an EarthForce helmet. One hand held a microphone to her mouth while the other hand grasped on a handhold on the ceiling. The woman stumbled from time to time, her hand on the handhold being the only thing preventing her from toppling over. Booming noises were muted by the walls and by ISN's editing.

"This is Tonia Wallace reporting from the Earth Alliance ship _Parmenion_, where General Lefcourt is directing the EarthForce task force gathered to stop the Borg in the Wolf 359 System. The battle has begun a few minutes ago and already, the fighting is reported to be very intense. Here's a clip from one of the ship's external cameras."

You now see weapons flying everywhere, energy beams of all colors and missiles maneuvering toward a huge cube. You see only EarthForce and Centauri ships for the camera was at an angle that did not include alien vessels in its range. You see one Nova-class destroyer firing all plasma and particle cannons as it rammed into the face of the Borg cube, turning into a titanic fireball. A Vorchan swept in closer and a Borg energy beam sliced off one of its horizontal wings, causing the Centauri warship to spiral out of control through the fireball created by the Nova destroyer. The image snowed into static.

Cynthia Torqueman was back on. "That was half an hour ago. Families everywhere are anxiously awaiting the results at Wolf 359. The Senate has expressed an official statement of gratitude to the Centauri government. Clearly, this new alien race is a threat to planetary security. A spokesperson of the Ministry for Public Morale assures that we will overcome this threat and that they are addressing our concerns about planetary security. Any question and concern that you may have should be referred to the Office of Public Information. This is Cynthia Torqueman, ISN, signing off."

**White Star Prime in Hyperspace**

Captain John Sheridan tapped his fingers on the arms of his command chair, watching, but not seeing, the way hyperspace swirled dangerously without giving any indication of his ship's movement or direction. It certainly fit his mood. He felt like floundering in the middle of nowhere. It had been so clear before. He was going to lead the forces of the Light against the Shadows. Clear and simple.

Then there were the troubles on Earth. President Clark, his regime and ministries. Then the tightrope he had to walk between Earth and the Newcomers. And now the Borg.

A Minbari spoke in Adronato. It took a while before the new Universal Translator translated for Sheridan, making the captain appreciate his new alliance with the Newcomers. Finally, the UT built into the ship's communications system spoke in perfect English. He was slightly surprised to find that it was tinged with the accent of his native hometown. The English words followed each of the Minbari's words only a second late. It was a good thing: depending on a living translator could easily mean death in a battle.

"We have intercepted a visual tachyon message from your EarthForce."

This was it. "All right, let me see it."

The holographic display descended over the windows of the bridge. It solidified to show an aging general with silvering hair, straining to keep himself breathing normally. Only the harness kept him from flying out of his command chair as his ship shook and jerked under weapons impact.

"General Lefcourt," whispered Sheridan.

The general looked calm and determined, but it was clear that he was worried. The reception was not very good as it kept breaking up in static. Lefcourt was speaking. _"…to Earth Central. The fight is not going very well…. We're trying to withdraw and regroup. Earth Central, send reinforcements immedia—"_

Static suddenly filled the holodisplay and hissed.

"Get it back!"

The Minbari, dressed in a flowing robe, manipulated the crystals in his console. "I am sorry, Captain. We lost the transmission."

Sheridan was having difficulties breathing. Earth was his home. His mother Miranda, his father David Sheridan, and his sister Elizabeth were on Earth. He hoped that his father's diplomatic status would enable his family to leave before the Borg reach Earth. _If_ the battle at Wolf 359 didn't end well, that is…. It wasn't something he'd like to think about. He then changed his mind about where he was going.

"All right, pour everything you have into the engines. We're going to Wolf 359 now."

The Minbari crew glanced at each other, doubt crossing their faces. Sheridan was their Shok'Na, their captain, so duty and honor say they must follow his orders. They turned to their tasks.

**Mimus Archipelago, Centauri Prime**

One of the most beautiful women in Known Space was practicing writing. For a long time now, she had been trying to create the perfect suicide note. So far, it didn't pan out. It might take years…she didn't mind…but once she has found the perfect way to express herself, to leave herself in the history books, she would proceed looking for the perfect way to end her life. Only then would she make her sacrifices to her patron deity at the local temple.

She cursed Londo again. Because of the divorce, she wasn't able to afford grand parties anymore. Because of the divorce, her beauty has not been made the more alluring by the power of House Mollari. So now, she was almost always alone in one of the country villas that Londo oh so generously provided.

Damn him!

The front door's chime sounded throughout the small villa. Mariel ignored it, letting the servants take care of it, and continued to write.

A servant entered her office and announced, "Milady, Londo Mollari, the High Seat of House Mollari and Ambassador of the Great Centauri Republic."

Startled, Mariel turned around to look at the door. There he was…her ex-husband, Londo Mollari himself! Londo, here! She nearly trembled at the outrage. She controlled her voice carefully, but her teeth nearly grinded against each other.

"Londo, what are you doing here?"

Londo raised placating hands. "I have come to make a proposition."

"What? Oh no, Londo! The fact that I'm alone doesn't mean I'm available for any of your Olympics anytime you want!"

Londo chuckled. "It is not that kind of proposition. Actually…it's similar to that, come to think of it."

Mariel narrowed her eyes venomously. Then she smiled and giggled warmly. She stood from her chair, causing her 'suicide note' to slide under other papers. Her hips swayed as she walked slowly over to Londo, one of her hands delicately reaching out to gently trace the ambassador's jaw line. Her eyelashes drooped to nearly hide her eyes from Londo. "Ah, Londo, I cannot thank you enough for giving me a small salary and this cozy villa on one of the 349 islands of Mimus. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hinting that I jump in the sea for the jaki to eat me. Of course, you'd know that the jaki only have a taste for kanar leno, not Lady Mariel."

Londo's face softened. "The Mimus Archipelago is a favorite vacation spot, and a very expensive one, I might add. I'm glad you are happy here."

Mariel's hand flashed and the noise of a slap resounded loudly. "What makes you think I can be happy here? I, Mariel, daughter of Antillo, once engaged to the great Solla before he was killed, ex-wife of the great Londo Mollari, _happy_ here off the southern coast! I should have been a widow of House Mollari rather than…than ex-wife! Even my former sister-wife Daggair is laughing at me! Oh, why did the Great Maker see fit to have Solla die? Solla's so much better than you could ever be!"

"Mariel…."

"Oh, isn't Timov dying of laughter, yet? Is that why you divorced us? To kill Timov with laughter? Damn you, Londo!"

"Mariel!"

The beautiful Centauri woman stopped and stared at Londo, breathing hard and waiting for him to speak. A woman could go only so far with a man of his status, especially when she's a divorced woman.

Londo took a deep breath. Clearly, this was going to be something important. "Mariel…. Mariel, you could do so much better than this. Great Maker! You deserved Solla and I admit he was better than me. You could do so much better than me."

Mariel laughed out of disbelief. "Do better than you? You're so funny! Have you considered making the Vree god Albendazel your patron deity?"

Londo smirked. "You know that adopting any alien god would damn a Centauri. I'd sooner fall on my sword."

Mariel stepped backward and tapped a finger on her rose red lips. "Better than you, you say? Nowadays, the only person better than you is Lord Antono Refa. His House is certainly powerful…maybe more powerful than House Mollari. But Antono is…eww!"

Londo grinned. Mariel continued.

"Besides, I hear he has the…unhealthy tendency to be devoted to just his wife, that bitch Celes."

Londo shrugged indifferently and said, "That may be. But Refa is not the only person above me."

Mariel stared at Londo as if he had gone insane. He looked serious! Great Maker, he can't mean…. "The…the…the _Emperor_? Cartagia? The same Narleeth Cartagia Jarn of House Kasto?"

Londo nodded slowly.

"You…you must be _mad_!"

Londo shrugged again. "Cartagia is the Emperor, and it wouldn't do for the Emperor of the Great Republic to owe anything to a simple Centauri like me. No, it's not seemly at all."

All Mariel could do was stare dumbstruck at Londo Mollari.

**USS _Enterprise_**

Captain Kirk was trying to read his book, but the words kept becoming…non-existence. It wasn't that his spectacles weren't good, but his mind kept wandering away, out of the warping starship.

He tried once more to concentrate on the book. He was interrupted by a beep from the ship's intercom. He sighed, glanced at the page number, then shut the book, and reached over from his sofa to his desk to activate the intercom.

"_Captain, we're approaching the Wolf 359 System."_

Kirk suddenly felt like freezing cold water splashed through him. "On my way."

xxxxxxxx

Kirk walked briskly out of the turbolift, his eyes automatically going to Susan Ivanova who was standing with hands clasped at her back. She looked back anxiously and moved out of the way as the captain went to sit in his command chair.

"Slow to impulse." Kirk wanted to see how the fleet at Wolf 359 was doing and whether the _Enterprise_ could help in a small way before going on to Earth. It would also help if they could see how the Borg fight. "Take us into the system carefully, Ensign Redpath. Yellow Alert."

Commander Chekov studied his tactical reading carefully. "Keptin, sensors are picking up several wessels."

Galen gripped his staff more tightly as Kirk asked, "The fleets?"

Spock answered before Chekov could. "Negligible power readings."

"Life signs?"

"I cannot discern any at this distance yet."

Chekov reported, "Wisual contact."

Kirk looked up at the main viewscreen anxiously. He wasn't the only one doing on the bridge doing that. "Onscreen."

Everyone stared in horror at the sight revealed. Kirk remembered the old photographs of Pearl Harbor after it was attacked. Though the Borg incursion wasn't a surprise attack and this was in space, it certainly felt like Pearl Harbor. The wreckage of the combined fleets of EarthForce, the Centauri Royal Navy, the Minbari Federation, and the InterStellar Alliance floated or drifted dead in space. Some of the ships were still sparking with dying power. Debris wandered among the ships. A few appeared to still have flames burning inside but they were slowly going out as the fire ran out of objects and air. Many of the ships were so devastated that their shape and racial origin was no longer recognizable.

The _Enterprise_ slowly passed one dead ship after another, her shields brushing past debris and broken fighters aside. Susan Ivanova was a little surprised to see Minbari, Centauri and League ships floating as part of the EarthForce fleet. They were a glaring example of how different sentient species could work together like the extra-universals had managed to do for their United Federation of Planets. Her shock at the wrecked Minbari warcruisers was muted by sadness. She had always seen the Minbari as nearly invincible. They were certainly unstoppable monsters in the Earth-Minbari War. Any warcruiser that joins a fleet made victory that much more possible. But now…to see nearly all of the warcruisers in sight so brutally wrecked…. Ivanova then cleared her head and recognized some of the EarthForce ships. She began to somberly call out the name of each ship to honor the dead.

"The _Charon_…. The _Kronos_…. The _Midway_…. The _Georgetown_…. The _Beowulf_…."

The Federation Constitution-class starship continued to cruise ever deeper through the cemetery of dead ships. 

**EarthDome, Geneva, Earth**

Three generals marched down the marble hallway of the still-new presidential palace. Their boots resounded on the gleaming marble colored light purple. Choosing one of the doors that lined the hallway widely, alternating with hung tapestries, the generals distantly glanced at the petitioners still waiting among the embroidered armchairs. Each of the almost-monumental doors was framed in purple porphyry. Unlike them, these three EarthForce officers didn't need to wait for the President to call them in.

The tall doors opened and General Franklin, entering the huge office of porphyry and red marble, looked to his left. President Morgan Clark was sitting at a large executive desk. He took a quick glance around at the office. He didn't really care for it. It was too big. Ceiling too high. Golden symbols were hung above doors and tall windows. A big room for a small man. He had heard that the new building was based on plans of the German Reich Chancellery. Just a rumor.

"Mr. President," General Franklin began, "communications from the Wolf 359 System have been cut off. We believe it is from Borg interference."

General Fontaine inserted a datacrystal into a dataport in the president's desk and aimed a remote at a vidscreen beside the president. It activated and showed the battle through heavy static. Morgan Clark leaned forward, trying to get a clear mental image. He looked back at the generals, surprised.

Richard Franklin nodded. "You see it. Everyone had force shields. Not us."

The President's face darkened with anger. "And R&D hasn't cracked the technology yet! Damn those Feddies! What's wrong with you? The Centauri are not on good terms with them and they shared it with them!" Clark gripped a pen to keep his hand from shaking in his frustration and anger. "Has the Centauri shared their shield technology with us, yet?"

The generals shook their heads.

"Did you even ask?"

Their heads shook again.

President Clark's face twisted in disgust. "We have a full alliance with the Centauri Republic! They must honor the pact by sharing everything with us!"

General Hague, standing slightly behind Franklin and Fontaine, gently stroked his silvering beard. He didn't let his face show what he was thinking. The Earth Alliance president was, to him, a dangerous fool. He expected allies to share absolutely everything? That was a bit naïve, even for Clark. Still, it was worrying when everyone except the Earth Alliance has the force shield technology now. First, it was the Narns using the technology with deadly effect by raiding Centauri shipping and outposts. Then the Centauri somehow acquired it, and that helped the Republic to make great strides in its invasions of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. But before too many League worlds could fall to the Centauri advance, the League got the technology too! Almost at the same time, the Minbari got it. It was like a plague that caught on really fast.

And Earth didn't catch it because the current government was alienating almost every foreign government in Known Space. Only the Centauri, Sh'lassien and the Lumati were _actively_ allied with Earth.

General Franklin was speaking. "They did honor the pact by sending warships to help us in the battle. Mr. President, from what we could get from General Lefcourt, we lost. All of us, EarthForce and aliens."

General Fontaine put in, "We have reason to believe that the Borg are coming to Earth. I strongly recommend you implement new security measures to combat this incursion."

President Clark nodded thoughtfully. It would be a good way to shut down that Senate investigation into the recording of his conversation with Mr. Morden just before Santiago died. Ideas long forming in his mind finally began to flow from his lips to the generals.

**Wolf 359**

The _Enterprise_ continued to cruise through the cemetery of dead ships, searching for survivors in vain. "Sir!" shouted Chekov. "Subspace distortion on the other side of the debris field!" 

The main viewscreen switch its view to the edge of the battle site. A jumppoint tore open and the White Star flowed out of the vortex. The Minbari-Vorlon hybrid ship paused for a while, then quickly moved to the _Enterprise_.

"Open frequencies," ordered Kirk.

Captain Sheridan came up onscreen, looking shell-shocked and haunted. Kirk understood the reaction. One single Borg cube had defeated a fleet of 158 ships, some of which were the most powerful in Known Space.

"_Captain Kirk, I…."_ Sheridan fell silent, unable to find words.

Kirk again understood. They didn't know whether if Delenn had come with the Minbari warcruisers into the system. "Captain, we are going straight to Earth. We will help you stop the Borg. We need to catch up with the Borg and get there before the cube arrives in Sol System."

Sheridan now looked energized. _"We'll open a jumppoint for you and follow you in. With your faster engines and tractor beam, we can overtake the Borg easily in jumpspace."_

Kirk nodded eagerly. Perhaps they would succeed this time. "Agreed."

The White Star turned on its axis and a jumppoint opened. It held open while the Federation starship entered hyperspace and then Sheridan's ship followed in. Once more, all was quiet among the broken ships of the Battle of Wolf 359.

**Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

Mariel, in veils, and Londo followed the Royal Guards in the darkened Royal Palace. The ambassador was puzzled and nervous. Why was there no light in the Palace? The only light they could see was the glowglobes carried by the two Guardsmen. Finally, they entered a ballroom. The Guards simply pointed at two chairs.

Londo and Mariel shared a frightened look. The ambassador could see regret already blooming in his ex-wife's eyes. They could never know what would happen with Cartagia. They sat and squinted into the darkness, imagining many forms of death coming out of it.

Soft music then sounded and rose. Several glowglobes activated, but they weren't enough to banish all of the shadows from the room. Finally, what appeared to be a woman in jewels came out into the light, slowly dancing erotically. Gold dust glittered all over her. Londo frowned, scandalized. This woman was wearing a high gold-dusted haircrest. The veils and jewels moved as the woman danced. Londo became even more scandalized for the woman actually had tentesticles barely visible through the diaphanous veils.

Finally, Londo got the reference. This person was being the goddess of passion, Li, the woman with male aspects in her. Li danced ever closer, throwing veils up into the air. Londo hoped that she wouldn't strip. Not here, in the Royal Palace where the Emperor might come in and be shocked.

Li then tore off the veil covering her face.

Londo and Mariel gasped. It was Cartagia!

The music ceased and Cartagia stopped, breathing a little hard and smiling broadly. His eyes gleamed excitedly at the couple sitting and staring at the Emperor in drag.

"What do you think?"

Londo's mind rushed to find words that won't lead him to the headman's block, or the new guillotine or even into the arena to fight a sha'je duel. He covered the time by slowly and carefully looking up and down Cartagia. "Very talented! I was even fooled into thinking that Li herself has blessed us."

Mariel only bowed her head in agreeing respect.

Cartagia beamed. He turned to look at the woman beside Londo. "And this is your wife, the Lady Timov? I've heard of the terrible Timov. Tell me, woman, what do you think of the show?"

Londo leaned to get the emperor's attention. "Ah…Majesty. This is not Timov. This is…the Lady Mariel. You would be glad to meet her, I think."

Cartagia, intrigued, reached forward and lifted the veils off of Mariel's face. His lips parted in wonder. Mariel, was after all, one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy. Mariel smiled demurely and looked up at him through long lashes.

The Centauri ambassador smiled subtly. Mariel was already working her magic on the Emperor of the Centauri Republic. She now owes a lot to Londo. He hoped an Empress would help keep Cartagia under control.

**USS _Enterprise_**

The dim red light of hyperspace shone into the bridge from the main viewscreen. Below the starship, Kirk knew, was the White Star being towed along in the tractor beam and adding its own engines to the momentum toward Earth. He looked to the technomage Galen and Susan Ivanova. The Russian woman was looking grim.

She looked back at Kirk. "How will you get to the outpost without being shot down by EarthForce? The White Star will do fine with its Minbari-Vorlon sensor stealth."

Kirk smiled like a child about to surprise a friend. "We're not going to Earth. I will transport Galen over to the White Star, then go to wherever EarthForce is going make a stand against the Borg in Sol System. You will handle EarthForce for my ship. Captain Sulu will join me."

Galen nodded somberly. He had already provided the coordinates to the transporter operator.

Uhura called for attention. "I'm getting a broadcast from Earth on all tachyon frequencies."

The main viewscreen now showed President Clark at his desk in EarthDome, looking serious and sorrowful. He began to speak.

"_Fellow citizens of Earth, I have heard your pleas for increased planetary security in the face of this alien threat. As your president, I feel obligated to you to speed up our mutual defenses. I am hereby signing a decree declaring Martial Law to be in effect throughout the Solar System."_

The people on the _Enterprise_'s bridge looked at each other, worried expressions on their faces. This meant that it would be even more difficult for EarthForce to accept their help.

Kirk whispered, "Sulu, I hope you get there on time."

**USS _Excelsior_**

The starship was vibrating hard. Captain Sulu studied the main viewscreen hard as if he was trying to will the Solar System to appear. One of the stars in the middle was slowly growing into a bright dot.

"Come on…. Come on!"

Lojur was concentrating hard on his helms control. "Any faster and we'd fly apart, Captain!"

Sulu glared down at Lojur. "Fly her apart, then!"

Lojur was momentarily distracted. It was exactly what Sulu said before arriving at Khitomer and rescuing the _Enterprise_ from General Chang's prototype warship. He hoped this time, things would turn out just as well.

**White Star Prime**

A Minbari reported that they were arriving at the coordinates. Sheridan tensed, almost expecting the Borg to be already there and assimilating his home. Mother, Father, Elizabeth. He glanced at Galen standing beside his command chair.

"Jump!"

A jumppoint opened and both the _Enterprise_ and the White Star slipped out. Before sensor alarms could be tripped all across the Solar System, the _Enterprise_ cloaked. The visage of Mars hung in the distance.

The Minbari and Sheridan were surprised. Invisibility technology! It was uncomfortably too much like Shadow phasing. He had to do his job of saving his homeworld and all the families on it.

"Maximum stealth. Top speed for Earth!"

A Minbari looked up at Sheridan's back. "We are intercepting a report from the Pluto Observatory Station. They have made visual contact with the Borg ship."

Sheridan hoped they weren't too late. "Planetary defenses?"

The Minbari shrugged, indicating ignorance.

xxxxxxxxx

The Borg cube, still repairing itself from damages at Wolf 359, cruised on a trajectory that would have it going past the planet Saturn. Three Olympus-class corvettes flew at the cube from the vicinity of the Saturnian moon Titan. The Borg, having adapted to EarthForce weapons at Wolf 359, easily destroyed the three corvettes one by one. Almost without a pause, the cube moved on towards Jupiter.

**USS _Enterprise_ (cloaked)**

The dim lighting on the bridge allowed Ivanova to hide her facial expressions as she studied the fleet arrayed at Jupiter. It was larger than at Wolf 359. At last count, there were 115 Earth destroyers and jumppoints were still opening and pouring more ships into the fleet. The President must be pulling as many ships as possible from the colonies. Her thoughts went back behind herself all the way to Earth, to her family. Even if her relationship with them wasn't exactly jovial, they were her blood.

A beep sounded at Spock's science station. "Captain, I am detecting biotechnology similar to the bioship we encountered in hyperspace some time ago."

Ivanova turned to the Vulcan with shocked surprise on her face. Not them! Not now!

Apparently Kirk had the same thought. "Where, Spock?"

"The indication of biotechnology is on the moon Ganymede."

"What?" That was from Ivanova.

"I cannot explain its presence without further data." Another beep in the science console sounded. "We are intercepting a transmission from Ganymede. It is directed at EarthDome."

"Put it up!"

On the main viewscreen, they could see the black nightmare shape of a Shadow ship sitting on supports under a glass dome. A ramp approached and touched the vessel. _"Subject is approaching target. Repeat. Subject is approaching target."_

The silhouette of a human man walked up the ramp towards the Shadow ship.

Chekov commented rhetorically, "What is he doing? They're crazy!"

Ivanova stared in mounting horror. Somehow, Clark got a Shadow ship and was apparently planning to use it to combat the Borg. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but this was too desperate for her. She found herself hoping that this black ship would be able to destroy the cube coming into the Sol System.

The human man vanished into the Shadow ship. Soon, the bioship came alive and lifted off the supports. It wobbled, as if it just woke up and was very disoriented. The bridge crew almost jumped when the vessel fired a purple beam, destroying something offscreen at random. Screams and shouts sounded over the speakers. The purple beam lashed out once more, this time at the dome itself, shattering it. It rose shakily up through the broken hole.

The main viewscreen switched to its own view of the Ganymede facility. The Shadow continued to rise, then fired again, destroying the base completely. The way it moved, it looked as if it was insane.

Chekov called out, startling everyone from their horrified viewing. "Keptin! The Borg ship is coming!"

**Borg Cube 578**

Cube 578 detecting biotechnological vessel in vicinity of Planet Five of Species 5618 home system. Presence of advanced biotechnology incongruent with technology level of Species 5618 Universe 02.

Scanning biotechnological vessel.

Course of biotechnological vessel erratic. Detected neutrino emission denotes presence of unknown type of propulsion. Two life forms detected—the vessel itself and the erratic human lifesign within.

Assimilate.

Presence of Species 5618 Universe 02 vessels is secondary.

We shall comply.

xxxxxxxxx

The Shadow ship appeared to be looking around hesitantly, still disoriented. The human in it was not prepared at all. He had never received the proper cybernetic preparation from the Zener. Confused, the man was surprised to find himself still breathing in the vacuum of space. Or was it all a dream? He could see the EarthForce fleet arranged above the moons of Jupiter, and the huge cube. Somewhere deep within himself, he somehow knew that the cube posed a threat to humanity. He ignored the alien vessel, thinking it all to be an insane dream. It was all painful, mind-wrenching. He screamed, not caring who would hear him.

Then the Borg attempted to latch a tractor beam on him. It reminded him too much of the bully in his childhood school grabbing his arm too roughly. He twisted, trying to get away. He felt like hitting at the bully to make him stop. A purple beam lashed out at the Borg cube, burning a corner off it. In his peripheral vision, he could see Earth destroyers turning to watch the struggle between Borg and Shadow. Several of them had begun firing at the cube.

The Shadow man lashed out once more, this time at full power, enough power to either slice an entire capital ship in two or to drill through a planet's crust down to the magma layer. The beam drilled deep into the cube and came out the other side, vaporizing and killing many drones along the way. The Borg retaliated with a green phaser.

The Shadow man felt like he touched a live electric wire. A painful shock that he couldn't jerk away. He tried to get away from the cube by phasing into hyperspace, but he didn't know how to yet. He screamed out of rage as he hit the cube once more, drilling straight through it again. Because he was not properly prepared, he also didn't know how to keep the beam going in a steady stream to slice a vessel.

The Borg decided they have had enough. The cube fired a golden cutting beam into the main body of the spidery black ship. Again, the Shadow man felt like touching a live wire and this time the shock wouldn't go away. He increased his efforts to jerk away, but he was stuck to the cutting and tractor beams. The dark mottled hull glowed as it attempted to disperse the Borg golden beam, but soon, the bioarmor failed and the cutting beam drilled into the body and hitting the human contained within, killing the man.

**USS _Enterprise_ (cloaked)**

Kirk watched in horror as the Borg cube moved close to the now dead Shadow ship, its tractor beam pulling it close as well. EarthForce ships were still shooting almost to no effect. He rubbed his temples to ease his head which was still slightly ringing from the Shadow psychic shrieks. He felt as if his ears were ringing from a loud noise or a hit in the head. _No one can hear you scream in space. That's not true anymore._

"Intriguing," commented Spock. "The Shadow bioship appeared to move and act like a living sentient being. Observe…it even bleeds like a living being where the Borg weapon cut into it."

Kirk squinted at the main viewscreen. It was true. He could see drops of black ochre leaking out and dispersing up in space like oil.

Spock continued his vocal analysis. "It would appear that the Shadows could be put at least at 'PS' on the Richter Scale of Cultural Development. Space-Dwelling Super Techno-Power Age."

Kirk nodded, agreeing. "But that puts the Shadows at a similar level with V'Ger and the whale probe. I don't like that thought."

"Indeed."

Ivanova didn't understand most of what Spock and Kirk were saying. She was watching the Borg turn the Shadow ship around lengthwise to their cube and open a hole. The black spidery ship was now being slowly consumed into the cube. Now the Borg would assimilate the power and technology of the Shadows due to the idiocy of President Clark. She nearly trembled out of rage. Now no one could stop the Borg! Everyone will die now, or at least become mechanical slaves.

Damn Clark!

Damn him to all the hells that ever existed!

Meanwhile, the Borg continued to shoot back at the EarthForce ships, destroying some and disabling many. Soon, when the adaptation is complete, the Borg would kill many more.

Damn Clark!

**Antarctica, Earth**

The whine of a transporter filled the dark chamber, and new blue-white light was added to the soft diffuse glow of light through the ice. Galen, Ivanova and Sheridan stood in the ice cave when the transporter effect faded.

Sheridan breathed in the stale cold air. Good thing the Federationers provided the technology for the White Star. Otherwise, they'd have to give themselves away to the EA sensors by drilling a hole into the ice with its neutron cannon and coming down in a shuttle.

The tip of Galen's staff glowed, banishing the darkness.

They could see a doorway and a latticed window. It looked surprisingly Arabesque. The room inside contained only a raised platform and a throne-like chair under a dome, with Arabesque pillars supporting folded arches in the ceiling and dome. It somehow didn't fit Galen's story of a multigalactic civilization ruled by a God Emperor with starships big enough to hold entire fleets in their holds. It was…anticlimactic.

"Welcome to Atlantus."

Sheridan and Ivanova turned to look at the technomage incredulously. "Atlantis? _This_?"

Galen waved a hand dismissively. "This is not the city of Atlantis. The city itself is…gone. This is the outpost of Terra Atlant_u_s." He gestured at the throne-like chair on its platform.

"One of you must sit. However, there will be one chance in millions that it will work for you."

Sheridan and Ivanova snapped their heads to the technomage. "What?"

Galen put up a placating hand to halt the rise of anger within the two Earthers. "This chair requires some type of genetics and mental capability that is similar to what the Ancients had. I, presently, have no way of finding which gene fits which. However, I believe Miss Ivanova would do well, considering her experience with the Great Machine at Epsilon 3."

Sheridan threw a look at Ivanova. They knew about her latent telepathic capability. They hoped that would be enough. The sturdy woman took a deep breath, pulled down her uniform shirt and stepped up to the throne. Her eyes revealed her nervousness. The throne looked too organic for her taste. Where her head would rest looked covered in thick mucous-covered spider-web-strings. Feeling silly, she cautiously sat down.

Ivanova stared at Galen, wondering what was supposed to happen.

Then soft light glowed throughout the abandoned outpost, a diffuse blue glow. Ivanova gasped and looked at her hands resting on the throne arms. It felt as if her hands were sinking into the arms, felt as if _hands_ were grasping her hands, but her eyes told her that nothing of the kind happened. A blue glow rose from within the throne and it bent backward, startling her.

For a moment, the irrational thought came into her mind of the chair being stolen off of an airplane and she was not in the mood to take a nap.

A hologram shimmered and solidified above her, filling the dome. It looked to be a three-dimensional map of the entire galaxy with tiny alien script connected to certain stars here and there. How could she find Earth's sun, Sol, in all the galaxy?

As soon as she completed that thought, the starmap moved the galaxy around, then expanded, pushing stars and nebulae out of holographic view, making all gathered in the room feel like they were on a starship going at impossible speeds. Soon, one star outshone the others and the dots of planets appeared. Then only this star system remained to fill the dome. It was the Solar System.

Sheridan pointed at Jupiter. "Is that what I think it is?"

As soon as the thought entered Ivanova's mind, the holodisplay focused on Jupiter and they could all see EarthForce ships, a large cubical vessel and a familiar white starship whose appearance kept rippling in and out of sight.

Sheridan took a breath through an open mouth. This meant this outpost had the ability to monitor anyplace in the entire galaxy and detect cloaked ships!

"Look!" That was Ivanova.

They watched with horror as a Shadow ship rose from Ganymede and fought with the Borg cube and died.

Galen pointed at Ivanova with narrow eyes. "Hurry. Tell the outpost to destroy the Borg before they finish assimilating Shadow technology."

"How?"

"Just…focus on the cube and visualize it being destroyed."

Ivanova closed her eyes and focused. There. The mental touch of the machine was incredibly like the telepathic touch of her mother, Sophie Ivanova. She stopped herself from gasping aloud and opening her eyes. Ignoring the lump in her throat, she thought of the Borg cube being smashed into nano-bits.

xxxxxxxxx

Orbital satellites caught images and sent them to their masters in EarthDome. The images surprised the operators in the surveillance center of Earth Central. They showed what seemed to be golden spirits pouring up from Antarctica, an endless stream of golden spirits swarming like bees out in space. When the first Ancient torpedo passed the orbit of Luna, Earth's moon, the golden glowing squid-like objects were still pouring up from Antarctica.

Thoughts of Vorlons entered the minds of those seeing the spectacle, and the old rumors of alien abduction in Antarctica shortly before the First Contact with the Centauri.

Finally, the tail end of the golden stream lifted out of Earth's atmosphere, and the glowing golden torpedoes continued on towards Jupiter.

xxxxxxxxx

Galen studied the holodisplay closely, watching the glowing dots move slowly away from Earth and Luna. "Too slow! By the time they reach Jupiter orbit, the Borg would be here!" He whirled onto Ivanova. "Think Foldspace! Fold the space around the torpedoes and send them straight into the cube!"

Ivanova was now breathing hard, almost panicking. "How! I don't know anything the hell about this folding!"

Galen forced himself to be patient and forced his voice to be utterly calm. "Susan. Imagine the torpedoes entering hyperspace, imagine them creating a point-jump straight to the cube. Reach out with your mind and imagine a jumppoint opening in front of the torpedoes and at the same time, open another jumppoint in front of the cube for the torpedoes to exit hyperspace. Use your mind to make a point-jump." Modulating his voice, Galen took up the tone of a general and commanded, "Jump!"

xxxxxxxxx

The glowing golden torpedoes winked out one by one so quickly, it seemed as if all vanished at the same time. Wisps of ghostly white energy were left in their wake, looking like a leftover from a mix of a wormhole and hyperspace.

The still expanding EarthForce fleet and the _Enterprise_ were surprised to see an entire river of golden glowing object appear out of nowhere with ghostly white energy felling away from the squid-like objects. The Ancient torpedoes immediately swarmed at the Borg cube.

The Solar System, briefly, had a second sun whose light would eventually reach all the planets in the system. Temperature on the Jovian moons rose for a while above what was natural or man-made. In other star systems, it would appear that the star of Sol, for a while, glowed slightly brighter.

On the ships able to see the event, the scanning and viewing sensors were eventually overwhelmed as the golden light built upon itself around the Borg cube, blinding those who happened to be looking at it through windows.

Captain Kirk threw up an arm to preserve his eyes as the main viewscreen's glare compensation failed to keep up. Even Spock's second eyelid didn't keep him from covering his eyes. This was why they didn't catch two of the Ancient torpedoes detecting the cloaked starship, and deciding that its technology was similar enough to that of the Borg, veered away from the exploding and dying river and made for the starship.


	22. The Galilean Gambit

_NeoSeether: Thank you. :-) _

_Yeah, that was a major error about Ivanova seemingly being in two places at the same time. She did say she was God... ;-) That will be fixed up in the rewrite when this story is done._

_Yes, these are drones, not torpedoes. The people in this story didn't know this as they were not as familiar with the Ancients as the Stargate people. Perhaps only Galen knew enough and he's not in the habit of volunteering information on the spot. As for the ZPM in the outpost, I'd say it had been replenished at least once before. As I said before, the Vorlons did use the outpost as a laboratory for introducing telepathy to humanity on Earth a century before the Centauri First Contact._

_Yes... Mariel would burn men of power. The emperor IS the ultimate man of power in the Centauri Republic. We'll see how Londo's ploy would pan out... The question would be "Will Mariel burn Londo or Cartagia?"_

_Yep. There's no limit to insanity. Human insanity is limitless, so why should Centauri insanity be any different? Several human monarchs have actually done Cartagia's crossdressing, notably the Roman Emperors Caligula and Elagabalus._

_You will see if there were survivors at Wolf 359 in the coming chapters._

_The First One reaction to the Borg is coming. As will the Borg reaction to Shadow technology._

_As for the Ancients' great enemy, they're all in the Pegasus Galaxy, so they will not make an appearance in this story. Unless someone manages to get a foldspace-driven ship and go to Pegasus...?_

_Zee-Magnees: It is a kind of homage to "Best of Both Worlds." I use the episodes to make the Borg and other aspects of the story as canon as possible._

_Bolo: It's an interesting possibility, isn't it? The problem is...if you're not properly prepared, you can't control the Shadow ship without going insane. And that preparation is mostly the job of the Zener, a Shadow servant race._

_Durham: That was indeed all Captain Kirk knew. But that was BEFORE the Borg made a personal appearance in the Babylon 5 universe and revealed facts about themselves through their actions toward the Centauri and Earthers._

_Everyone else, thanks for the comments and feedbacks! They are all one of the guiding lights for how I write. On with the story!_

_NOTE: This chapter takes place approximately during "Voices of Authority" in the Babylon 5 original timeline._

**

* * *

**

**Battle of Jupiter:** _The character of the Shadow War was changed by the events among the Galilean moons of the planet Jupiter in the Earth Alliance Sol System in the year 2260. If the Battle of Wolf 359 sobered the star nations of the era into realizing their vulnerability to armed incursions from the Federal Universe, Jupiter determined the path that the Earth Alliance would tread for the rest of the regime of President Morgan William Clark. He was exasperated by the events of Wolf 359 where his fleet was wrecked. The choices made for Jupiter was in large part due to what happened at Wolf 359. There is a strong suspicion that President Clark was trying to discipline EarthForce by staging the assault on…._

—_Encyclopedia of the Shadow War_, Repository of Knowledge, New Earth (AKA Vorlon Prime), a million years after the Shadow War

Captain Kirk threw up an arm to preserve his eyes as the main viewscreen's glare compensation failed to keep up. Even Spock's second eyelid didn't keep him from covering his eyes. This was why they didn't catch two of the Ancient torpedoes detecting the cloaked starship, and deciding that its technology was similar enough to that of the Borg, veered away from the exploding and dying river and made for the starship.

Ivanova saw what was happening and tried to mentally command the Ancient torpedoes to turn back to the river of golden destruction now plowing into the Borg cube. She strained to throw her telepathic command all the way to Jupiter's orbit.

Galen slowly shook his head. "You are not fully compatible with the Ancient command chair. If you were a full telepath, had the compatible genes or had ingested what the Ancients called the Spice Melange, you would be capable of control at much greater distances. As it is, you are limited to the Earth-Luna space."

Ivanova only strained harder, and began to look frustrated.

The two Ancient torpedoes reached the _Enterprise_, the first golden-glowing squid striking the starboard nacelle of the starship, destroying it and causing the ship to instantly decloak and begin a spin that halted as stabilizing thrusters fired. Shields were automatically raised in time to lessen the blow of the second torpedo, but the blast partially penetrated the forming shields and damaged the secondary hull of the Federation starship.

The _Enterprise_, lazily spinning out of control, was now visible to the entire EarthForce fleet arranged in Jupiter's orbit.

Captain Kirk reached up for the rail from the floor and pulled himself up right amid the billowing smoke. Alert lights flashed red through the smoke as sparks flew from two of the consoles. Blood seeped from a gash in his forehead, creating a prison-bars effect down his face. He blinked hard to get smoke-induced tears out of his eyes.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan, true to his form, was already up and studying his console readings. "Jim."

Kirk stood up and pulled down his tunic from under his belt. "Status report."

"Captain, the warp core and the cloaking device are offline. Shields are down to 76 and holding. Life support is optimal. Weapons minimal. Casualty reports are still coming in."

As the smoke was cleared by the atmospheric cyclers, Kirk turned to look at the main viewscreen. The EarthForce fleet was still arranged in orbit of Jupiter, but several warships and many fighters were now moving to surround the _Enterprise_. The Borg cube has been reduced to a very small remnant of itself, perhaps one-sixth the original size, the size of an Earth Omega-class destroyer.

The Borg remnant shot off a message drone toward the quantum gate near the Vree System.

The eyebrows on Kirk and Spock shot up. Amazing. Apparently, the Ancient blast was not enough to finish the Borg off. They had worried that EarthForce would get their hands on the dangerous nanotechnology that would survive in the broken remnant, but now it would seem they also had to worry about surviving drones.

Spock said, "I'm detecting activity on the Borg vessel." He toggled another control on his console and the main viewscreen magnified and focused onto a part of the mangled and severely reduced vessel. They could see pipes, filaments and other parts slowly moving as if they were wriggling worms weaving a new network of their bodies.

"Self-repairing regeneration. Fascinating."

Chekov had finally cleared his banged head. "Fascinating, hell! More battles and death!" He turned to Ensign Redpath to make sure he was alive enough to helm the starship.

The ensign lay on the deck, his neck at an impossible angle and eyes staring emptily.

Chekov swore in Russian. _"Yebat'-Kopat'! Durak neshtiasnyI…."_

The main viewscreen fizzled and switched to the image of a Japanese woman on a darkened warship's bridge. Static in the speakers was bad but soon cleared as Nyota Uhura adjusted her communications control.

"_Thi…the EA…-on,…-ain Laurel Takashima commanding. Do you require assistance?"_

"Ah Captain Takashima!" Kirk put on his best smile. "Thank you, but no." He knew that EarthForce would do anything to get their hands on his starship and he vaguely remembered her name in the reports from Director T'Sara's people.

Laurel nodded expressionlessly. _"Can you shoot? The Borg are still there."_

Kirk glanced at Chekov. The Russian whispered, "We only have enough power to do tattoo work."

"Why yes, Captain! You need our assistance in erasing the last of the Borg from your universe?"

One corner of Laurel's mouth pulled up in a knowing half smile. _"My scanner operator tells me you have very little power in your weapons."_

"Every little bit helps." Kirk looked at Spock who inclined his head warningly. EarthForce was still surrounding his starship. "But I warn you. Do not make any attempt on my ship."

The starship jolted as Laurel watched. The first thought that came into Kirk's mind was that EarthForce had opened fire, but he quickly recognized the feel of a tractor beam latching onto his ship.

Laurel shook her head admonishingly. _"Don't waste your warning on us. The Borg have you."_ She leaned forward. _"We will help you to fight them off, if only so that we can work on creating some kind of rapport."_

Kirk almost blanched and looked at Spock. His friend subtly nodded. The Borg had indeed tractored the _Enterprise_, in spite of their severely reduced state.

**Antarctica, Earth**

"_Pizdets!_ OK, I guess that's it…. _Blin!_"

Ivanova angrily jumped off the Ancient control chair and the machinery's blue glow darkened and the chair jerked up to its upright position.

Sheridan nodded, partly thankful that there was no universal translator built into the outpost's infrastructure. There was nothing else they could do with the Ancient technology available in this abandoned outpost. They had seen the _Enterprise_ struck down by the Ancient torpedoes in the holodisplay and EarthForce moving to surround it. Sheridan doubted that it was benevolent protection the Earth military was thinking. There was one more worry left….

"Galen, it's not a good idea to leave this place unguarded. Clark could…you know."

The technomage gave a mirthless smile. "The Atlantus outpost is built with material that is impervious to all scanners except subspace scanners and those of the First Ones. I have created a spell to make it a bit more impervious to subspace scanners in case your EarthForce somehow attain that technology. President Clark wouldn't be able to find it for centuries yet even if he had to dig out all the glacier, ice and snow off this region. For now, only we and Captain Kirk know the location and its capabilities."

Sheridan nodded, though he wasn't completely reassured. He spoke into his comlink. "White Star, this is Sheridan. Beam me up."

Ivanova smirked. "You've been waiting to say that, haven't you?"

Sheridan grinned guiltily and shrugged. "What else can I say?" The world was whitewashed with motes of light till it was replaced by a small room in the White Star. A Minbari, her headbone uncarved and unadorned, dutifully stood behind a transporter control plinth, her hands coming out of a plain robe to gently caress the crystals jutting out of the plinth.

Sheridan stepped off the transporter pad with Ivanova and Galen following behind. "Get the White Star to Jupiter, now."

The Minbari Worker, having heard perfect Lennau from Sheridan thanks to the universal translator, bowed slightly and responded in her native tongue, _"Vis, Shok'Na."_ She trusted the wondrous Newcomer technology to translate it to 'Yes, Captain.'

**Jupiter Orbit**

"My God," commented McCoy angrily, "after all this and we're going to die? Pathetic!"

On the main viewscreen, the broken, but still powerful, remnant of the Borg cube loomed closer as the _Enterprise_ was slowly tractored closer. EarthForce's weapons still pounded into the Borg vessel to almost no effect.

Kirk pounded the intercom button on his command chair, channeling his frustration into the hit. "Scotty! Please tell me you have a miracle up your sleeve!"

"_Ach, the poor lass is banged up. If I try to reactivate the warp core, it will breach. Too bad I have na the chance to test the Bel-Nar dilithium crystals, third-rate though they are."_

An idea formed in Kirk's mind. "Scotty, you told me the Bel-Nar crystals could easily act like trilithium and blow."

"_Aye. Third-rate like I said. I do na know the quality of the dilithium the Centauri use, but they canna be much better."_

"Yes! We still have them in the cargo bay, don't we?"

Captain Montgomery Scott looked around himself, confused. Kirk couldn't mean having Centauri in the cargo bay, so he must mean the Bel-Nar crystals. The starship captain must have an idea up his sleeve. "Aye, we do."

"_Wonderful! We will have a warp core breach!"_

Scotty frowned, wondering if the captain's head had been banged up once too many times. "Umm, ye do know we will die much sooner that way?"

He could hear a chuckle over the intercom. _"It is our fate to die sooner or later, but I prefer later. Start the core reactivation sequence. Have everyone come up into the saucer section. The Borg will eat our core breach and we will be away and free in the saucer section."_

Scotty widened his eyes. Kirk meant to have a saucer separation! A last resort, but at least they may all survive that much longer. "Aye, aye, Capt'n! I be starting the reactivation sequence and I'll finish it in the bridge!" With that, Scotty went to work on the reactor controls while ordering everyone in Engineering to evacuate to the saucer section. The Bel-Nar crystals should be able to amplify the explosion. He only had to open a few conduits from Engineering to the cargo bay and then….

Too bad he wouldn't be able to work with the good lady anymore, at least her stardrive section anyway.

xxxxxxxxx

"Are you mad!"

Spock arched an eyebrow at McCoy. "It is the logical course of action. EarthForce is having minimal effect on the Borg vessel. Inaction on our part would allow the Borg to complete their repairs and continue their efforts to assimilate Earth."

"But then we must deal with EarthForce! It's going to be a case of getting out of the frying pan and into the fire!"

Spock exchanged a glance with Kirk. The ship's doctor was right. "If the Borg survive, the…'fire,' as you would say, will instead be a volcano."

Dr. McCoy threw up his hands into the air. "All right, all right, you damned Vulcan! Do it if you must stroke your precious sense of logic!"

Kirk grinned humorously. "This ship has become a deathtrap and I intend to have us live through it."

The doors of the turbolift slid open and admitted Montgomery Scott into the bridge. The Chief Engineer immediately activated the engineering console. He waited for Captain Kirk's expected orders.

The captain turned to Uhura who said, "All decks in the saucer section signal readiness. Stardrive reports ready."

Kirk nodded for Scott to begin.

"Capt'n, can we not find some other way to salvage the situation?"

"Scotty…."

Scotty grimly nodded. "Beginning saucer separation…now."

At the top of the neck connecting the saucer section of the _Enterprise_ to the stardrive section, a red line had been painted to note where the emergency separation would occur. This red line split in two to create triangles on the sides of the front and back of the neck. These triangles now created a clanging vibration in the starship's hulls. The rear triangle moved backward away from the saucer, while the front triangle slowly dropped down away from the saucer as well. These were docking latches.

Scotty hesitated as his finger hovered over a button in his engineering console. He had worked with the warp core of this starship ever since it had been commissioned at Earth Spacedock. "Me bairns…," Scotty whispered to himself regretfully and pressed the button.

Explosive bolts blew along the red line between the docking latches, forcing the saucer section off of the neck. The Borg tractor beam pulled the stardrive section free away from the saucer section.

Kirk made a fist. "Mr. Chekov."

The plasma exhaust of the impulse drive glowed red and added to the distance already evident between the saucer and stardrive. The push was not as strong as it would have been with a warp core providing the power. The impulse engines were now relying on fusion reactors.

Laurel Takashima and every other captain in the EarthForce fleet stared with disbelief. This particular starship was capable of dividing itself in two! They waited to see what Captain Kirk's next move would be.

Kirk also waited. The Borg vessel pulled the stardrive closer to itself. Closer and closer….

The captain pounded his fist into an open hand. "Now!"

Scotty's lips thinned grimly, mourning the loss of the warp core, and sent a signal for the reactor to restart itself.

In the warp core, matter and antimatter flowed into the intermix chamber. The magnetic containment fields attempted to control the annihilation, but, damaged as they were by the Ancient torpedoes, the fields failed. Matter and antimatter now rushed into their destructive embrace. The warp core breached.

The destructive energy, in the milliseconds before manifesting itself for everyone in Jupiter orbit to see, reached the cargo bay where they touched the crates of the low-quality dilithium crystals bought on the planet Bel-Nar in the Antares Sector. The crystals absorbed the energy and, due to their low quality, quickly converted into trilithium resin which then combusted, adding to the blast of the warp core breach.

For the second time, a brief sun shone in the orbit of Jupiter.

The ruined Borg vessel could not resist the power of the blast and soon became tiny broken debris and gas. The few EarthForce ships that were too close tumbled in the dying edges of the blast and a few more ships were singed. The _Enterprise_'s saucer section tumbled before a shockwave.

The bridge crew stumbled and fell, receiving yet more knocks.

xxxxxxxxx

Laurel Takashima stared openmouthed. They had just destroyed half their ship to eliminate the Borg threat entirely! Maybe they were beneficial to EarthForce after all. She turned to her tachcomm officer. "Send to Earth Central: Borg eliminated by Feddies. Fed ship damaged by effort. Do we assist?"

**EarthDome, Geneva, Earth**

General Smits entered the President's office, subtly nodding to General Hague in a knowing greet. Generals Franklin and Fontaine didn't notice. The President was too busy reading reports.

"Mr. President. We have received a report from the Jupiter Fleet, specifically Captain Laurel Takashima of the Ag—"

"Yes, yes, yes." Clark was waving dismissively. "Get to the point!"

Smits thinned his lips at this departure from protocols, then gave the report. "The Fed ship has eliminated the remains of the Borg threat—"

President Clark interrupted again. "What! How…. Damn them! Now we can't study the Borg nanotechnology!"

General William Hague stepped forward. "Mr. President, our weapons were having no effect on the leftover of the Borg ship. The enemy was still a danger to planetary security."

Clark frowned at Hague. Suddenly, he could imagine an interrogator roughly plucking the hair off the general's neat silvering close-trimmed beard. "EarthForce is one of the best military forces in the galaxy. We would have eventually worn the Borg down into submitting to us." He slapped a paper he was holding down at the desk. "Smits! Anything else?"

"Uh yes, sir. The Feddies destroyed the Borg by dividing their ship in two and causing the engine part to blow up in the Borg's face."

Fontaine looked at Smits skeptically. "Divide their ship in two? They really could do that?"

General Smits nodded. "Captain Takashima is asking for permission to assist the surviving part of the Fed ship."

Clark's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face. "Oh ho so that means the Feddies are unable to do anything?" His eyes shifted over to Franklin pointedly.

General Richard Franklin was still smarting from the failure to seize that extra-universal civilian ship at Janos 7. This was his chance to redeem himself. "Mr. President, we do have marines stationed on ships in the Jupiter fleet. I'll give the order for them to seize the _Enterprise_."

Clark raised an admonishing finger. "If they shoot, just disable them _lightly_. Just board them and capture the ship. We will not be left out of the new technologies that everyone else seems to be getting!"

General Fontaine frowned along with Hague and Smits. "You sure? We don't know if there is still an open way between our universe and the Federal universe. We could be getting ourselves into a war with the…." Fontaine frowned further, trying to remember the name of the political entity. Hague supplied him. "The United Federation of Planets."

"Yes, that's it. Thank you, General. I seriously doubt EarthForce could handle the full might of this Federation."

Clark almost sneered at Fontaine. "By the time they find out, we will have upgraded EarthForce to their level of technology. We can handle them. If there's ever an open way into their universe, which I seriously doubt."

Hague made one more attempt to deflect the president from this path. It would be a terrible mistake, possibly as bad as the mistake made by Captain Michael Jankowski who had started the Minbari War. His mind had, unbidden, conjured up the image of an entire fleet of _Enterprise_'s and _Excelsior_'s replacing Minbari warcruisers at the Battle of the Line. "But, Mr. President…!"

Clark slapped a hand down at this desk, creating a thunder-like resounding noise. "General! I am the President here! Many people seem to think that I'm easy to manipulate. Those stupid senators think a…a _special_ prosecutor is enough to remove me! Me!" Clark scoffed before continuing. "Well, let them. I'm the President. They're not. They can think whatever they like. Besides, I cannot be defied especially when we have Martial Law in the Solar System. This is a turning point in Earth history, generals, and I intend to take as much advantage of it as possible for humanity's sake!"

Hague and Smits still looked like they didn't fully agree yet. Franklin spoke, wanting to solidify his position to redeem himself from the Janos 7 failure.

"Generals, can we cancel the agonies of Earth? All the agonies of Earth, _cancelled_?" Franklin made his voice strident to overcome the resistance in the other generals' minds and to put himself in the President's personal favor. "Are broken ghosts limping forever from Stalingrad and Salamis, from Gettysburg and Dunkirk, Agincourt and the Spanish Armada? Do the butchers' blows still fall at the Teutoburg Forest and Auschwitz and Wounded Knee? Are the dead of Carthage and Hiroshima, San Diego and the Dilgar Invasion burning yet?"

The other three generals stared at Franklin with surprise.

"We must move forward! This is a turning point in our history, gentlemen. Like those other turning points, we must move forward and not look behind us. An opportunity has presented itself to us and we must seize it!"

Clark smiled. He had been right to choose General Franklin as one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff after all. "Yes. What he said. We must move forward. We do not let the past hold us back. As your Commander-in-Chief, I order you to seize the Fed ship!"

All the generals snapped to attention and intoned together, "Sir, yes, sir!"

**White Star Prime**

Captain Sheridan studied the holodisplay at the front of the bridge. He didn't feel right about this situation. Not right at all. He could see EarthForce ships of all classes surrounding the primary hull of the _Enterprise_. The Minbari crew had informed him that they had detected several breaching pods being prepared and made ready. So far, EarthForce hasn't shown any notice of the White Star. Good. The sensor stealth was working at maximum.

But it wouldn't be long till someone visually noticed the Vorlon-Minbari hybrid ship.

"Get us to within 30,000 kilometers of the fleet."

The Minbari crew complied. Sheridan knew that this was the maximum range of the Federation transporter installed in the White Star.

Ivanova glanced at Sheridan suspiciously. "What are you going to do?"

"Without their engines, Kirk's people wouldn't be able to fight off EarthForce. We are going to beam as many of his people aboard as possible and leave."

Ivanova nodded, but still looked unsure. "That will still leave Kirk's ship for Clark to take advantage of."

Sheridan nodded. "I believe Captain Kirk knows this. He'll destroy his ship rather than let Clark have his hands on it."

A Minbari called for the humans' attention. "We are noticed."

Sheridan and Ivanova went back to look at the holodisplay. One of the EarthForce ship was turning around to face the White Star. Sheridan took a deep breath. He recognized the ship.

The Earth destroyer fired a laser warning shot off the White Star's bow. _"This is the Earth Alliance ship Agamemnon, Captain Laurel Takashima commanding. Unknown alien vessel, identify yourself or be destroyed. Repeat, identify yourself or be destroyed."_

Sheridan exhaled hard. His own ship. He wouldn't fire on EarthForce ships. He won't. And this was the _Agamemnon_, his command before Babylon 5 and that made it even worse.

It's not fair.

Ivanova peered at her commander. The bond of captains and ships cannot be underestimated.

One of the Minbari spoke anxiously. "Shok'Na, do we respond?"

Captain Sheridan stared at the _Agamemnon_. His old beloved ship.

It's not fair.

Sheridan shook his head in negation. "No. We can't have them knowing who we are."

Ivanova lightly touched her captain's arm. "What can we do about the _Enterprise_?"

"Start beaming them over. Tell Kirk about that."

"And…if EarthForce starts shooting at us?"

Sheridan stared straight ahead of himself silently.

Ivanova, understanding, exhaled sharply. "Oh boy."

**USS _Enterprise_**

"The White Star is going to beam us off, Captain."

Kirk nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Uhura. Tell them I'm the last to beam off."

Spock pointed out a fact that they all uncomfortably knew. "The White Star is of an insufficient size to contain all 400 crewmembers of the _Enterprise_."

"I know, Spock. Hopefully, Sulu will come in time."

Chekov stood up from his console. "Shields are offline. EarthForce breaching pods are approaching on an attack vector."

Kirk grimly pulled his red tunic down at the belt. "Uhura, ship-wide. Attention, all decks. Prepare for boarders. Repeat, prepare for boarders. All personnel go to transporter rooms." The captain turned to Chekov once more. "Do we have phasers?"

"Minimal."

"If we open fire," Spock pointed out once more, "EarthForce will feel obligated to return fire and kill more of our people than necessary."

"Agreed. So phasers are out. Everybody, go to the transporters and beam over to the White Star or the _Excelsior_, when Sulu finally comes."

McCoy said, "And you, Jim? What about you?"

Kirk gave the doctor a mischievous grin. "Military tradition says the captain should go down with his ship."

"Military tradition, my eye! You've failed to go down with the other Enterprises!"

The captain laughed, feeling more alive than he had felt in a long time. "Am I ever a traditionalist? Go, Bones. Go!"

"Not until I know what you're planning to do, you stupid fool!"

Kirk suddenly turned serious. "The _Enterprise_ has become a deathtrap. But I intend to make it a deathtrap for the EarthForce boarders too. I'm going to set a self-destruct sequence."

McCoy nodded. "Again, Jim. One of these days, you're not going to destroy an Enterprise."

Kirk stepped over to the science station as Spock and Scotty gathered around. Captain Kirk leaned over the console and pressed a communication button.

"Computer, this is Captain James T. Kirk. Destruct sequence one, code one, one-A, three-A."

It was Spock's turn. "Computer, this is Captain Spock, Chief Science Officer. Destruct sequence two, code one, one-A, two-B."

As Spock stood away from the console, Scotty stepped forward and spoke into the console. "Computer, this is Captain Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineering Officer. Destruct sequence three, code one-B, two-B, three."

"_Destruct sequence completed and engaged. Awaiting final code for one-minute countdown."_

Kirk shared a somber look with everyone on the bridge. "Computer, hold and wait for me to speak the code."

"_Holding._"

The bridge crew watched Kirk stand up and face them. "Now…we fight!"

Chekov nodded and hurried to a cabinet under the tactical console. Opening it, he handed out hand-phasers to the bridge crew. Once everyone was armed and ready, he jumped up and typed in a command in the console. "Keptin, all doors to the bridge will be sealed after we go."

Kirk nodded, satisfied. "Go. I'll wait here for Sulu to pick me up."

McCoy was worried as everyone piled into the turbolift. "You sure, Jim?"

"I'll see you again, Bones. Spock." Kirk smiled to reassure McCoy and Spock.

A dull but loud thump vibrated through the hull. One of the EarthForce breaching pods has attached itself to the saucer hull. Spock nodded, allowing a little of his emotional worry for Kirk to seep through his Vulcan veneer. The turbolift doors closed and took them all to the nearest transporter room. Captain Kirk went over to sit at the science station to await the word that everyone has beamed off. He caressed the arms of the science chair, mentally apologizing to the starship.

Another vibrating thump in the hull signaled the arrival of another breaching pod.

xxxxxxxxx

Kalina Reikson checked her instruments before looking at the pearlescent hull. She shook her head to herself. The computer had analyzed the hull to be composed of an alloy of metal, ceramic, crystal and fullerene, making the hull 24 times harder than diamond. The result was the visual appearance of a pearl. Beautiful but certainly made the torching job difficult, especially when the torches had to burn the inner hull as well. She consulted the instruments before making the confirmation.

"Sergeant Major! The way's clear, sir!"

The breaching team commander grunted and yanked at the red handle beside the large hatch. The hatch popped and hissed open, revealing blackened hull around the edges where the breaching torches burned. Beyond was a quarter that seemed luxurious in comparison to those on EarthForce ships. Personal effects littered the room between bunks for crewmen.

The sergeant major grunted in satisfaction at the lack of crewmen. He shouted, "You straookin' maggots! I want you to dust up this ship! Take prisoners, but if any resist, wound 'em! Go, go, go, go!"

The boarders jumped through the hatch and dropped down through the burnt hole in the ceiling. The breaching pod had attached itself to the flat part of the saucer's topside. They quickly and efficiently searched the quarters, sweeping their phased plasma rifles around.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

The sergeant went to what was clearly the entrance door for this quarter. They obligingly opened at his approach. Definitely a luxury unheard of on EarthForce ships. He had always thought that the sliding doors known on Babylon 5 and other such large stations spoiled the crew and made foreign invasions too easy. He grinned. All well and good for them to capture this ship. "Theeeese strokin' Feds are gonna learn how soft they are! Men! Secure the corridor! We must go to the command center!"

The heavily armed and armored men filed through the open door and sighted over their guns down the straight corridor. The contours of the corridor were strange and a little too bright to their EarthForce eyes. The light color certainly made the dark armor and clothes of the EarthForce marine commandos all the more starkly visible. Black stripes ran along between beige bulges in the walls. Some of the black stripes were flashing red. At least that part was familiar enough.

One of the boarders spoke through the intercom in his helmet. "Sarge! It's empty!"

The sergeant nodded and made hand signals commanding a team to take point and charge down the corridor. An angry red beam whined down the corridor, signaling resistance from around a corner at the end of the corridor. The boarders crouched down to the floor and walls and shot pulses of helium plasma in response.

The sergeant squinted down the corridor through his visor. He could make out a wine-red helmet and the muzzle of an energy weapon rifle. A red beam lashed out once more, touching one of the boarders in the hip. He slumped.

Phased plasma rifle fire saturated the corridor, the boarders now enraged by the downfall of their comrade. One of the commandos carefully forced a hand through the fallen man's armor and felt his pulse. Surprised, she turned to the sergeant. "Sarge! He's not dead!" Her voice dropped in perplexed wonder. "He's…_sleeping_."

The sergeant grunted. These Feds were softies indeed. But he felt a little uneasy. As far as he knew, no one had the technology to stun someone without using blunt force, tasers, tranquilizer guns, or PPGs at ineffectively low power that would leave sunburns. He'd be damned if he allowed these aliens put them all to sleep and capture them. "Fire at will! Subdue them!"

The boarders slowly advanced, firing their PPRs. A pulse of helium plasma finally burned through the burgundy armor on one of the Starfleet security officers, causing him to fall dead. The face of a Caitian was visible in open front of the helmet. An oddly distorted gold triangle adorned the helmet front above the furry face. Phaser beams and pulses rained back at the boarders, stunning two more marines.

The sergeant major frowned in disgust. This was going to take too long. He hoped the other breaching pod crew made better progress.

xxxxxxxxx

The White Star weaved through space, avoiding the weapon fire from EarthForce while the Minbari crew labored to beam as many of Kirk's crew as possible over. The Minbari were careful by locking onto only the transponders built into the Starfleet uniforms. The _Enterprise_ helped by using her own transporters to beam more people over to the White Star. A laser beam from the _Agamemnon_ grazed against the port nacelle of the Minbari-Vorlon hybrid ship.

"You must shoot back!" shouted Ivanova.

Sheridan vigorously shook his head as he strained against the pulls of the ship's dancing maneuvers. He wasn't about to shoot at his own military. They were people who wore the same uniform as his, shared the same jokes, the same yearning for real Earth food in space. They adhered to the same Constitution of the Earth Alliance. He knew that if he shot back, someone he knew might die. Especially if that someone was on his old ship, the _Agamemnon_.

He shook his head vigorously, horrified at this turn of events and at himself. "No."

Ivanova grunted as she held onto an arm of Sheridan's chair as the White Star spun on its axis and flew in another direction. "Damn it, Captain! I understand your reluctance, but if we don't shoot, we will die! Our rescue will be useless, pointless if we die!"

Sheridan felt stuck in a corner and looked at Ivanova with pleading eyes.

"Ah _blin_!" The Russian woman exhaled hard and came to a decision. Usurping the captain's command, she began to give orders to the Minbari crew. If she was going to be damned, then let's be damned!

Thank God, she's Russian.

The White Star finally opened fire, eliminating a starfury and disabling an Olympic corvette in quick succession.

A warp flash bloomed in the distance and the _Excelsior_ cruised out of warp, firing at EarthForce ships.

"About time you came, Captain Sulu!"

The image of a harried Starfleet captain appeared in the descending Minbari holodisplay. _"I apologize. We have been apprised of the situation. We're going to drop shields and start beaming. We'll do as much as we can. We will need to raise shields before our hull integrity start failing."_

"Just do it fast!"

The intact Federation starship began to dance among the Earth weapons, firing phasers and photon torpedoes.

xxxxxxxxx

The sergeant major of the first batch of boarding EarthForce marines grunted as he felt his PPR kick back into his shoulder. He was satisfied when he saw another armored Starfleet security officer being thrown back by the hit. He shook his head. Unbelievable. They had found out by consulting a map of the _Enterprise_ on a bulkhead that the command center was in the very top of the saucer instead of in the center. If EarthForce had known this, they would have concentrated fire on the saucer dome for a decapitation strike. Earth wouldn't have exposed its high officers to potential danger this way!

The PPR kicked back at him once more as a phaser beam whined past his helmeted head. A whine of a different tenor sounded and the sergeant was amazed to see blue-white points of light appear and surround one of the enemy security men. When the light faded, the man was gone. So the rumors of transmat technology were true! The marines advanced as yet another Starfleet security officer vanished in transmat light, this time a blue skinned and antennaed woman.

The sergeant smiled. Cowards. It only made the job of seizing this ship and its miraculous technologies easier for them.

xxxxxxxxx

Captain Kirk silently listened as reports came of the White Star and _Excelsior_ getting more of his crewpersons off of his doomed ship.

"_Holding."_

The computer was automatically reminding him that the self-destruct sequence was still awaiting his final command. He wondered whether this situation would apply as a Kobayashi Maru situation. He smiled ruefully. Too bad this time he couldn't alter the parameters.

He idly imagined Starfleet Academy using his present experience in the test simulations. He could imagine the Commander-in-Chief, Fleet Admiral William Toddman, agreeing to the modifications for the Kobayashi Maru test, and Blackjack Harriman seething at yet another point that his son has to match in the next _Enterprise_.

Too bad he couldn't go home to tell Admiral Bill about this.

Thumps sounded from inside the turbolift shaft. Ah. The boarders had finally climbed up to the bridge level.

A whistle sounded from the communications console and Kirk went over to Uhura's former station. He was surprised to find that it was a tachyon visual signal from one of the EarthForce ships, the _Agamemnon_. He activated the main viewscreen.

"Captain Takashima."

The Japanese woman narrowed her eyes as she took in the sight of Captain Kirk standing all by himself on his bridge. _"Captain Kirk. You still won't surrender? My men are about to enter your command center. Give up and no more people will get hurt…or killed."_

Kirk chuckled. "No, Laurel."

The EarthForce captain's face twisted in anger. _"It's Captain Takashima! I'm not your friend!"_

"All right, all right! Captain Takashima. Touchy today, aren't we?"

Seeing the Starfleet captain standing there all alone bothered Laurel. _"What are you waiting for, Kirk? For one of your transmat devices to whisk you away at the last dramatic moment?"_

Kirk grinned brightly. "You do know me, madam!"

Laurel rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. Kirk thought he heard "drama queen." It must have been his imagination.

A louder thump sounded, this time from the turbolift doors. Kirk imagined that the boarders were now attaching some kind of explosive device to the sealed doors. Reports were now saying that the last crewmen were being beamed away. It was time. He returned to the science station, ignoring Captain Takashima. He lowered his voice softly.

"Computer, minimum volume. Final code for countdown: zero, zero, zero destruct zero."

The computer spoke in a volume softer than a whisper and showed numbers on a small screen. _"One minute…fifty-nine seconds…fifty-eight…fifty-seven…."_

Kirk sat and waited for the turbolift doors to blow and for Sulu or Sheridan to beam him away. He gave Laurel another bright teethy grin.

Laurel crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes further. _"You know the problem with men? They have tunnel vision. It comes from looking at everything through their dicks..." Laurel raised a hand and her finger and thumb almost touched each other in the gesture. "A little tiny hole, Captain Kirk. The penis has this little tiny hole."_

Kirk widened his eyes good-humorously and his smile broadened. "I didn't know you played doctor before!"

Laurel only said in contemptuous response, _"You are dramatizing your last few moments. That's the tunnel vision of male ego."_

The turbolift doors finally exploded, forcing Kirk to take cover under his arms. The dark figures of EarthForce marines hurried through the smoke and aimed their PPRs straight at Kirk.

The starship captain muttered to himself, "Anytime now, Sulu."

**USS _Excelsior_**

Captain Hikaru Sulu pushed his hair out of his eyes and glared at Ensign Tuvok. The Vulcan had just informed him that hull breaches were appearing in spite of the power reinforcement of the integrity field. It wouldn't do to have his starship destroyed, making all the rescue efforts moot. Sulu pursed his lips before giving the order.

"Shields up."

Tuvok nodded and pressed a control.

"Did we get everyone?"

Janice Rand furiously communicated with the transporter rooms on the starship and the White Star. "Just one left, sir. Captain James T. Kirk."

"Can the White Star get him out?"

Janice clutched to her console as the starship stumbled under weapons fire. "Uhh, no, sir. Captain Sheridan says that EarthForce is forcing him out of transporter range."

"Damn."

**USS _Enterprise_**

The sergeant major of the Earthforce boarding marines studied the workstations of this command center. The marines were now escorting Kirk to the breaching pod. What a boon for EarthForce R&D! Soon enough, with this ship as a template, Earth would be able to fight even the Minbari easily! His ears caught a very soft ticking sound. He leaned down with an ear directed at a computer panel speaker at the science station.

"_Twenty-two…twenty-one…twenty…."_

The blood drained out of his face as the sergeant recognized the sound of a countdown. He ran to the second turbolift that was opened and activated by Kirk, screaming into his helmet microphone. "This is Sergeant Major Plug! Everybody, get out of here! Get out now! Reikson! Prep the pod for departure!"

xxxxxxxxx

Kalina Reikson anxiously waited at the hatch, having heard the sergeant major's shouted orders. The doors of the quarters slid opened and marines were pushing Kirk at a run. The marines pushed chairs to under the burnt hole in the ceiling and forced Kirk to reach up for Kalina's outstretched hand.

xxxxxxxxx

The sergeant major flew out of the opening turbolift at a tearing run, mentally continuing the countdown. Calculating the time he had left, he knew he won't reach the pod in time.

Damn Kirk! Damn them all to hell!

"Reikson, leave!"

"_But, sir…!"_

"Go! Now!"

Sergeant Major Plug mentally kept up with the ship computer's countdown as his arms pumped in the run toward an escape pod he knew to be there at the end of this straight corridor.

"_Six…five…four…three…"_

xxxxxxxxx

Captain Sulu watched mournfully as explosions racked the primary hull of the _Enterprise_ in a designed destruction. The saucer hull ruptured and cracked as flames licked out from inside. EarthForce ships hurriedly moved back away from the starship's death. A fireball escaped one of the crumbling cracks in the saucer hull, quickly dissipating in the cold vacuum of space.

The turbolift doors opened to admit Spock and McCoy. They stopped in their tracks when they saw their beloved starship in its death throes.

Spock stared at the sight with tight eyes, his face rigid as he tightened his emotional control.

The fusion reactors at the back of the _Enterprise_'s saucers pumped out one final energy burst. This time, it wouldn't be directed at the impulse engines, but inward at the main body of the primary hull. The saucer blew in a final fiery explosion, throwing debris at the EarthForce fleet arranged around it.

Doctor McCoy struggled to voice what Spock dared not say for fear of quickly losing his self-control.

"My God…Jim…."


	23. Choices and Consequences

"I learned about choices and consequences and responsibility. I learned that we all have choices, even when we don't recognize them, and that those choices have consequences, not just for ourselves, but for others. We must assume responsibility for those consequences." 

—John Sheridan in Babylon 5: "Rising Star"

**Wolf 359**

Lieutenant-Commander Leonard James Akaar was barely conscious in the gleaming darkness. His body ached. He had long ago figured out that his left leg was broken. The last thing he remembered was ordering the new InterStellar Alliance fleet into battle against the Borg cube, supporting the Earthers, Minbari and Centauri. He didn't remember how he went from the command center of this Vree Xill-class saucer into this corridor.

The corridor wasn't the kind he was used to. Instead of curving or rounding outward, the corridor's sides, the walls, ceiling and floor, all curved inwardly, as if he was in between four pipes bundled together. Faint light glowed from the corners of the corridor, making everything have the sheen of a wet street on a rainy night. When he had first came awake, he feared that he had been captured by the Borg, but he then recognized this place as one of the corridors of the Vree saucer. The feeling of artificial gravity told him the ship wasn't totally crippled, but the light told him that the main power was down. Instead of the bright light emulating the daylight of Vreetan, the phosphorus grown in the corridors' corners was providing the faint moonlight-like illumination.

Akaar tried to push himself up to stand. He gritted his teeth in pain as he collapsed back onto the humped floor. His left leg was indeed broken. Rather than staying and be driven mad by the boredom, he crawled down the middle of the corridor, hoping to find another survivor.

After minutes of crawling, Akaar came upon an intersection of the featureless wet-looking corridor. There, he found a Vree lying across his way. He reached forward to touch the skin of the alien body. He could feel the powerful muscles and sinews under the fragile-looking tiny body's skin, which, itself, felt like a cross between a snake's skin and a dolphin's skin. The body felt cold. Akaar gently pressed, causing the large egg-shaped head to loll at an odd angle. He wasn't sure of Vree anatomy, but something about that angle told him that the neck was broken and s/he was dead. He sighed. He hoped a rescue would come before he joined the Vree in hir death. A rescue from one of the locals, even if the local turned out to be a scavenger, would be fine. He gently nudged the body, causing it to slide down the curved floor to the side, blotting out some of the emergency phosphorus glow in the corner.

He continued crawling, hoping to find other survivors, yet dreading the discovery of more corpses. Suddenly, Akaar could feel the tingle and hear the high-pitched whine of a Federation transporter. A rescue! Either the Excelsior or the Enterprise has come to pick him up! He felt a vast grateful relief.

The joyful relief turned into puzzlement as the transporter effect faded. The transporter room looked slightly different from what he expected. Even the crewpersons seemed different. A doctor rushed forward. Akaar found he couldn't recognize the doctor. Where was Dr. McCoy? Or the Excelsior's Bolian doctor, Altos Viger? What's going on? Did Akaar receive some small brain damage in the battle?

Akaar struggled to speak with a mouth he didn't realize was very dry. The doctor was saying, "He's suffering from internal hemorrhages! We must bring him to Sickbay, now!" The unfamiliar doctor reached out with a hypospray to touch the Capellan's carotid artery in his neck. A hiss of the hypospray soon sent him into a deep sleep.

**Hyperspace**

On the main viewscreen, Captain Sheridan's White Star was keeping pace ahead of the Federation starship Excelsior. They had immediately entered hyperspace while EarthForce was still distracted by the fiery destruction of the Enterprise. A silence hung over the bridge as the crew pondered the death of that starship and her captain.

"Spock," said Dr. McCoy as he gently touched the Vulcan's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Spock turned to face McCoy stiffly, his face completely devoid of emotion. "Yes, Doctor."

McCoy shared a look with Captain Sulu. "You can't be all right, Spock! Jim's dead!"

"That indeed seemed evident in what we saw in the Sol System."

McCoy tried his best to imitate Spock's eyebrow-arching. "'Seemed evident'? Are you saying you agree that Captain Kirk died on that damned ship?"

Sulu and McCoy watched Spock silently turn back to watching the main viewscreen as the starship jumped in one of hyperspace's countless turbulences. Ever since leaving Sol, Spock had been extremely stone-faced and mechanical. They sympathized. As friends and fellow crewmen who worked with him for many years, they knew that he was never more logical and relentlessly unemotional than when he was using his Vulcan mental discipline to cope with huge emotional stresses.

Dr. McCoy tried once more. "I know you are closer to Jim than anyone in the universe. And this is why—"

"This is why I did not feel his death."

The doctor was taken aback. He had suspected that Kirk and Spock had developed through an extremely close friendship a bond similar to what he had read in the medical history of other such bonds between Vulcans and humans. Sulu decided it was time for him to look away and give them the illusion of privacy so he stood and went over to the science station to deepen the study of hyperspace.

"What the hell does that mean! He's dead!"

"Doctor, I did not and still do not feel his death."

McCoy raised his hands in a posture of surrender. "Okay, okay, so you still need to deal with the impact. You may be a Vulcan, but that sure doesn't mean you're immune to emotional trauma."

Spock simply stared at him expressionlessly, his eyes going colder. McCoy raised his eyebrows and decided it would be counterproductive to push the Vulcan any further. Sighing, the doctor went back to watching the dizzying swirls of hyperspace.

The ship's navigator, Angelo Tiffe, spoke up, breaking the thick silence. "Approaching the jumpgate. The White Star is signaling the gate for activation."

Sulu stood from the science station, clasping his hands behind himself, to watch the procedure. It never ceased to amaze him. He still had not taken warp technology for granted, appreciating it for the technological miracle it was, but jump technology was still new to him and therefore even more amazing.

A vortex appeared in the midst of the hellish dimension and the White Star slipped into it, stretching itself before vanishing into a tiny flash of light. Soon, the helmsman, Kruton Lojur, had the Excelsior following it out of hyperspace through the Babylon 5 jumpgate. Alien and human ships, as usual, surrounded the five miles long space station, in the dozens. In their time in this universe, the Excelsior was getting more and more familiar with the alien vessels, though there were some that were never seen before. Sulu doubted that they could ever finish cataloging the ships that pass through this sector.

But there was one ship that needed no cataloging whatsoever.

"Sir…," whispered Lieutenant-Commander Lojur.

"I see it," said Sulu. He looked to Spock who was now at the science station to verify what they were seeing. Through the Vulcan's manipulations of the controls, the main viewscreen isolated the ship and magnified exponentially. It was an Oberth-class starship.

As if he sensed the crew's amazed disbelief, Spock magnified the screen some more until they could read the letters emblazoned on the saucer held in between the ship's warp nacelles. _USS Springfield NCC-1936._

Incredulity warred with delight on the crew's faces. Home have come to them!

xxxxxxxx

Hikaru Sulu, Spock, Leonard McCoy, Nyota Uhura and Janice Rand all had to resist the temptation to run out of the shuttle settling in the docking bay. They could see the station's security officer, Chief Garibaldi standing with the acting Federation Ambassador Miranda Jones in her jeweled sensor net and another woman in a Starfleet uniform. Though the wine-red tunic and black pants were a familiar sight on both the Enterprise and Excelsior, seeing such a uniform on someone who was clearly not a crewmember of either ship brought out a delighted reaction from everyone except the unemotional Spock.

As the most senior commander of the stranded Federationers, Captain Spock stepped forward, inclining his head in respectful greeting and recognition. The woman, though aging, still had her blonde beauty from the last time Spock saw her in 2266. "Captain Areel Shaw."

The elegantly coiffed woman gave a small frosty smile. "Captain Spock. A fine mess you have left for Starfleet."

Dumbfounded, the newly arrived Federationers stared at her. Where was the warm welcome?

Miranda looked at them with sympathy while Garibaldi looked like he wanted to wince.

**Hyperspace**

Ambassador Kosh Naranek communed and sang with his ship and the ship sang with him as they traveled through hyperspace. The ship inserted a note in the song that was almost discordant, yet still harmonious to show its concern for Kosh.

The Vorlon ambassador sang his gratitude for the ship's concern. He _was_ worried. Hence, the necessity for this trip.

The recent events had nearly pushed Ulkesh's clique into dominating the Vorlon High Command. Kosh had used the skills of his entire being to dissuade Ulkesh and the High Command from the temptation of choosing the interventionist course too early. The price for that was too high. The whole Empire was working hard to preserve the Circle as it was before the extra-universal contamination. Interfering now would wreck the integrity of the Circle more than the Newcomers ever could. He admitted that the militant solution was tempted him as well, especially when that extra-universal ambassador tried to persuade him into interfering with the Borg incursion. Kosh agreed with Ulkesh on one point: if the Borg were allowed to proceed, all would be lost. The quarrel with the Lords of Chaos would be made moot. Dangerously moot.

Ambassador Miranda Jones was right. If they did nothing, the Borg would keep sending cubes to assimilate the worlds of this part of the galaxy. Intelligence about the battle at Jupiter indicated that the Borg has assimilated Shadow technology. That meant the Borg would come with much more powerful cubes and target the Shadow homeworld itself. That would endanger all of the First Ones. The Borg was possibly more dangerous than the aliens that his people fought a million years ago. The sound of a crystal chimed in the midst of his song. Kosh doubted that even the Yonji Sinhindrea could successfully fight the Borg Collective.

It was perhaps fortunate that the Newcomers gave the Vorlon Empire the time it desperately needed to eliminate the threat and preserve the Circle.

A crystalline chime sounded from the ship and the song changed slightly, opening a jumppoint.

The planet seen beyond appeared to be abandoned, but through his ship, Kosh could feel the footprints of those who lived here in the sands of the planet. He could see a network of glowing lines in the planet's surface. The song of this place was different from what the Vorlon Empire liked and used, but it was still beautiful to the ambassador.

Sigma 957.

Away from the planet, an area of space filled with lightning bolts, a storm announcing the arrival of the planet's owners. A vast vessel somersaulted out of the vortex. The alien ship, which dwarfed Kosh' transport, had an ethereally glowing saucer on the back, the main body being made up of bone-like structures. Tiny colored lights flitted around this body like fairies and the tip of the ship was a translucent globe filled with colored lights moving through the dark inside.

Kosh, though respectful, was not impressed.

A head appeared before the Vorlon ambassador. It appeared to be a mask carved of wood with a face cut on all four sides. The red glow of a blast furnace appeared to issue from the mouths and eyes, and from the open top and bottom. In his studies of Earth, Kosh had been amused to find that this iconic representation would be called a tiki-idol's head. He began to rumble his song to the Walkers of Sigma 957.

**"I am Kosh the Wandering Pilgrim of the Secret Fire. We are faced with a problem."**

The apparition moved slightly, rumbling like a distant jet engine as it listened. **"Fire-kindler, the problem is not ours. You chose the path. You must tread that path alone until you resolve your quarrel."**

Kosh resisted the temptation to bristle at the Walker. **"The quarrel is our own and we shall resolve the quarrel in our way. No. The problem I speak of is the biomechanical infection festering in another universe and threatens to sicken us all."**

**"We are aware of the infection."**

In other words, the Walker was saying 'So?'

**"Moon-walker, we are not prepared to deal with the infection directly. We sincerely and respectfully ask that you help by aligning yourselves with other First Ones to remove the infection."**

The tiki-apparition rumbled more loudly and flames appeared to spurt from behind the mask. **"Zog! Vorlon tavutna chog!"**

Kosh now bristled at the refusal and insult, and had to resist ordering his ship to open fire on the Walker vessel. Doing so would have elevated the grudge between the two First One races into a war, something the Vorlon Empire could ill afford. **"The youngest of the First Ones, the Kirishiac, have already agreed. They only await you. You have the ability to wander the omniverse, to step into other universes. Refuse and the Kirishiac will be forced to use the quantum rift near Vreetan. That will risk revealing ourselves to the young ones. Time will be wasted. The infection would by then have sent more infectors and succeed in assimilating worlds without number. Not even the First Ones would be safe against the cancer that would grow in this universe."**

The tiki-head apparition moved for a while, appearing to ponder Kosh's speech. **"You call yourselves Dreamers in the Heart of Time, Singers in the Deeps of Time. The Minbari, as one of your children, call you Powerful Heavenly Ones, and The Highly Exalted Ones."** The apparition vanished.

Kosh had to hold his patience and soothed his ship with song. Through this, he was soothing himself. He felt mocked by that last statement from the Walkers. He hated to admit it, but in this instance, the Empire needed them. He knew that the Walkers were now convening among themselves about the Vorlon Empire's proposal. He could almost hear the subtle change in their song's tenor.

Finally, the apparition reappeared before the ambassador. **"We are aware that you desire this only so that your Morning Star will continue to rise and keep the Circle. We do not approve."**

Kosh quietly sang of his disappointment and it was his ship's turn to soothe him. The Empire would have to hurry in getting the Entil'zha to travel to the last war. The Walkers were not finished, however.

**"But we agree that the infection cannot be allowed to spread, to change the circles of the omniverse beyond repair. We will proceed with the operation."** The iconic apparition vanished for a final time and lightning bolts flashed around the Walker vessel. As the tiny dots of colored light flitted faster around the translucent globe on the tip, the huge ship moved, appearing to somersault backwards deep into the electrical storm and vanished in a flash of bright light.

Kosh Naranek felt a great soaring joy. Perhaps the Circle can be saved and returned to the usual circle of time in this universe! The Vorlon transport and Kosh sang together, changing melodies to gain entry into hyperspace.

**Babylon 5**

Michael Alfredo Garibaldi watched as Captains Spock, Sulu and Doctor McCoy conversed with the woman Areel Shaw in Captain Sheridan's office. He shook his head. More people coming from the other universe. When will the visits stop?

As he studied the reactions of the Federationers to Areel's words, Garibaldi didn't particularly like the old blonde. Miss Shaw reminded him too much of Major Lianna Kemmer before she forgave him for the death of her father at Jupiter. If the Federationers haven't proven their worth to the anti-Shadow alliance, he would be suspicious of Areel. Then again…. Starfleet could be a lot like EarthForce: many officers angling for political advantages or marching to the tunes of idiotic politicians. He leaned to the side to whisper to Ambassador Miranda Jones.

"Who's the bitch?"

Miranda half-smiled at the Chief's bluntness. "Captain Areel Shaw is an officer of the Starfleet Judge Advocate General. She is also…an old friend of Captain Kirk's."

Garibaldi whistled, impressed. "A JAG?" He then looked at Miranda quizzically. "An old friend, huh?"

Miranda thought of how much she could reveal without violating Kirk's and Areel's privacy. "Yes…. They were once romantically linked, but the relationship didn't work. They parted as friends."

"Uh-huh," said Garibaldi. If Areel once thought that Kirk was a good prospect for romance, what must she be feeling about Kirk's death at Jupiter? He nodded at Spock, Sulu and McCoy. "Doesn't look like it's the first time they've met Areel. Don't tell me they were all 'romantically linked.'"

Miranda chuckled quietly. But she didn't chuckle at Garibaldi's words. Rather, it was at his thoughts: _If they were, she must have ridden cocks all the way to her current rank._

"No, Mr. Garibaldi. They were not. Almost thirty years ago, Captain Shaw was Starfleet's prosecutor in Captain Kirk's court-martial for the murder of a fellow officer."

The security chief winced. "Murder in the ranks, huh? Seeing how Kirk managed to stay in Starfleet, I'm guessing Kirk was found not guilty?"

"That's right. That 'murdered' officer was slightly mentally unstable, a Mr. Finney. The murder did not happen. Rather, he framed the captain and hid while the court-martial went on."

Worry came up on Garibaldi's face. It would seem that this 'Starfleet' was as full of insane adventures as Babylon 5. He hoped that this new visit didn't portend a doubling of that insanity on the space station. He turned to watch the interaction.

"Starfleet Command wants you—all of you—to come home," Areel was saying.

McCoy narrowed his eyes at the JAG officer. "If we agree, what will happen to us?"

"The crew of the Enterprise will be reassigned to other ships and posts throughout the Federation."

"If we don't agree?" queried Sulu.

It was Areel's turn to narrow her eyes. "A general court-martial for both crews. All of them."

McCoy squawked. "Court-martial! What the hell did we do?"

Areel Shaw was looking peeved and took an officious posture. "Violating Starfleet General Order One, also known as the Prime Directive, on numerous occasions."

Spock raised an eyebrow, sharing the others' surprise. "The circumstances were unique. We believed ourselves to be stranded and unable to return home."

Areel scoffed. "Giving away Federation technologies like the shields and transporter? Forcing non-aligned planets to band together and create a new united political entity? Ordering a Starfleet officer to command an alien military force? Engaging alien vessels in battle without making any attempt to make first contact and achieve a non-military resolution? Involvement in other wars that have no relation to the Federation whatsoever? Need I say more?" She shook her head wearily. "You're lucky I didn't invoke Starfleet Regulation 7, Paragraph 4."

The three men were silent. Starfleet Regulation 7, Paragraph 4: 'An officer must consider himself under arrest, unless in the presence of the most senior fellow officers presently available, the officers must give satisfactory answer to those charges….' If they caused Areel to invoke that rule and refuse to submit, the Federation could send more ships and officers to forcibly put them all under arrest. McCoy and Sulu were feeling resentful. They already submitted to one inquiry on Earth soon after saving that planet from the alien whale probe. McCoy was also feeling glad that Kirk wasn't here to hear this outrage.

Captain Areel Shaw nodded at Garibaldi, signaling her readiness to be escorted to quarters. "Like I said. If you agree to come home, there will be no general court-martial and everyone involved will be acquitted and reassigned."

xxxxxxxx

A doorchime sounded. Miranda Jones went to answer it. The ambassador pursed her lips. It was Areel Shaw.

"Come in."

The two women sat in a comfortable sofa. Miranda offered tea and coffee, both of which were refused.

Areel said, "Do you mind if I get personal with you?"

Miranda shook her head. So. This was how it would go: an uncomfortable small talk designed to verbally probe each other. Due to her powerful telepathy, she didn't need that. But she could play along with the probing game. "Go ahead."

"Do you miss Ambassador Kollos?"

Miranda stiffened. So. This was how it was going to go. Kollos was the Medusan ambassador with whom she was in love and mentally bonded with. His last gift to her was making it his dying wish for the Medusans to rejuvenate Miranda, giving her a longer life full of youth. She didn't resent that, exactly. She understood that Kollos wanted her to have the chance to experience love once more and to appreciate humanoid companionship once more.

"No, I don't."

Areel had a thin smile. "Lying, Ambassador? That seems…unseemly."

Miranda had an expression of mock surprise. "You call me an ambassador and yet, you don't seem to know that lying is an art in diplomacy. But then again, a court prosecutor wouldn't know that art."

Areel chuckled. "Touche. Though…. You couldn't leave Kollos. You didn't have the courage. I speak from experience."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that." In spite of Areel's rudeness in plumbing her for information about the late Kollos, something in Areel touched her. Was it Kirk? Miranda leaned forward on the sofa. "Staying with someone because they're helpless is one thing. Clinging to someone because you can't live alone, Areel…. That's different. Besides, what I felt for Kollos was love."

"Clinging. Do you think that's how Jim felt?"

"I didn't mean…."

Areel sighed. "I saw snow once. The nice thing about it—it soon covers everything."

Taking the hint, Miranda mentally withdrew into herself, turning off her telepathy. "Areel…. James couldn't give you the feeling that you wanted. He couldn't. I met him only once and for a short time, but from that time, I knew this."

Areel fell silent. Kirk had been friends with her ever since their relationship's failure. She didn't think that his death would hit her this hard and she regretted throwing her anger and frustrations at the men and at Miranda.

"You're not here on a social call, are you, Areel?"

"No," Areel said. "Do you want to go home?"

"I thought this was not a social call?"

"It's not. Indulge me."

Miranda studied Areel's face through the sonar scans made by her sensor net for a while. "I do want to go home. Home is home. But if you're asking me to actually go home to the Federation…. No."

Areel had a question mark on her face, and the sonar scans of Miranda's sensor net and telepathy transmitted the question to the ambassador.

"This universe has a great potential for depravity and darkness. At the same time, it has the potential to be great in nobility and beauty. I am, currently, the Federation's only diplomatic expert on this place. If I were you, I would urge the Federation to maintain my embassy here. As long as we can't close the quantum rift between the universes, that is vital. Especially if you've read the reports on the species here like the Shadows and the Vorlon Empire."

"Yes. Starfleet Command is inclined to agree. In spite of the…troubles the Earth Alliance seems to be having." Areel stood up and Miranda stood with her. The JAG officer took out a compadd and held it out to the ambassador. "Here. Just put your thumbprint here and your embassy is made official by the Federation Council."

Gratefully, Miranda pressed her thumb on the compadd. If the crews of the Enterprise and Excelsior either go back home or get court-martialed, she could continue her work here in the name of the Federation.

**Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

A Romulan man gazed out the window at the Palace Gardens. Some time ago, he had been sneaked through the quantum gate to be ambassador to the Centauri Republic for the Romulan Star Empire.

Ambassador d'Ry Mas appreciated the trust that the Imperial Senate was showing by appointing him to this post. In spite of the shocking decadence of the Centauri, he was enjoying himself. Yet, he was also comprehensive. He had never known such a capricious tyrant like Emperor Cartagia. The Centauri emperor brought to mind the historical lessons of the Ruling Queen T'Rehu. Soon after the Exile and Exodus, T'Rehu built up an army on Romulus and tried to get the people to follow her. When the Founder S'Task stood up to her for the second time, the warlord queen killed him and ruled Romulus and Remus for almost 20 years with tyranny and beneficence.

It was a good thing that Romulans had a horror of decadence and the tyranny of one person.

And Earth? Now Mas clenched his hands in anger. It wasn't fair. This universe didn't have a Qo'noS, Romulus, Vulcan or Tholia, yet it had Earth and humans! He wondered why. Did it have to do with humans being the first to find this universe? Ambassador Mas was trying to grasp at the reason, feeling himself inching closer to a truth. He turned away from the window, giving up on his thoughts. Better to leave such things to the theoretical sciences.

At least, there was no United Federation of Planets here. The Earth Alliance was primitive enough for the Romulans to handle, but it made almost every piece of Romulan propaganda about humanity true. Weak, incapable of appreciating loyalty, honor and duty, and treacherous. Mas smiled. The government back home would have a feastday exposing that to the peoples of the Star Empire!

Now it was up to d'Ry Mas to steer the capricious Cartagia into unleashing the Royal Navy against the Earth Alliance and remove a potential ally of the Federation. That only thing troubling his mission was the Klingons aiding and abetting the Narns. Mas scoffed. Barbarians in bed with other barbarians. It was only natural.

The doorchime called for his attention.

The new Romulan ambassador was not expecting any caller. The official state banquet was scheduled for tonight and he was sure it would degenerate into an orgy. The door opened on old-fashioned hinges, momentarily reminding him of the odd Centauri fondness and predilection for tradition. His cousin, Sub-Commander T'lees Mahdee Mas was standing in the door.

"Ambassador, someone requests an audience with you. He has the proper authorization."

Mas frowned. "Let him in."

"Yes, sir. And sir? He's human."

d'Ry Mas scowled. "Let him in. I trust you have been vigilant with him."

The Romulan guard bowed his head and moved out of his cousin's sight. The human entered the ambassador's luxurious suite in the Royal Palace. He was wearing an almost vapid, yet cloyingly friendly smile. He looked like a human businessman. Mas narrowed his eyes. The air that Morden was giving off wouldn't be out of place in an Orion slave market.

"Ambassador d'Ry Mas, I have only one question for you. What do you want?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question, Mr…?"

"Morden."

"Mr. Morden. Who did you say authorized this meeting?"

"I didn't," said Morden. He smiled at Mas' narrowed eyes. "It was Lord Antono Refa, Vocator in the Centaurum."

"And does he know what this is about?"

"No. But in order to see someone of your preeminence without violating your treaty of secret alliance with the Centauri Republic, I needed to get a recommendation. Refa provided it. You still haven't answered my question, Ambassador. What do you want?"

Mas was flustered. "What do you mean, what do I want?"

"What do you want?" Morden was still radiating polite friendliness with his smile.

"What do I want…? What do I—"

"What do you want?"

Mas didn't say his thoughts out loud. He wanted the human to choke on himself and reduce the human population of this universe by at least one man. "This is pointless. Go away and do not bother me anymore."

Morden considered that for a moment, smiled and nodded. He bowed and said, "As you say." He walked to the door.

"Wait!" d'Ry Mas studied the human man. Refa authorized this human? Rumors had been circulating in the Palace about that Centauri lord's ties to a mysterious and powerful alien ally. The Romulans had tried to discretely investigate the unknown alien vessels spotted on the island of Celini without success. Any agent sent there was never heard from again. Was this human connected to that ally somehow?

The ambassador was momentarily distracted by what he thought were sounds of quiet clicks and hisses of large insects in the room. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He wasn't alone with the human. Morden was definitely someone the Tal'Shiar needed to investigate. He decided to make a gamble.

"What do I want? The Romulan Empire is still sore about the humiliating defeat at Cheron. What I want is to erase that humiliation and restore the honor of my people."

"What do you want?"

Mas was getting annoyed and he allowed his feelings to guide his words. "To break the Federation! To free my people from the limitations of the Neutral Zone!"

"What do you want?"

"To tear down their starbases, darken their skies with the ships and flags of Romulus, to completely, utterly, remove the Federation as an obstacle!"

"And then what?"

Ambassador Mas was taken by surprise. "To realize our destiny, of course! I want all the races of my galaxy to be humbled before the Romulan Star Empire. I want my people to realize their right as the superior people to rule the galaxy and to inspire awe and terror in the very stars themselves!" Mas scornfully turned his back on Morden and poured himself a glass of iced jhala tea. "Does that answer your question?"

Mr. Morden smiled even wider and bowed. "I'm sure my associates will be pleased with your answer. I will see you again on another appropriate time."

Mas sipped at the cold beverage and turned to tell the human to not bother him again. He was surprised to find him gone. Even the strange subsonic insectoid chitter he had been hearing was gone.

He ran to the door, yanked it open and looked out around the hallway. His bodyguard, Mahdee Mas was puzzled at the ambassador's behavior. "Sir?"

"T'lees Mahdee," said d'Ry Mas carefully. "Did you see the human come out?"

Alarmed, Mahdee shook his head. "Shall I search your quarters?"

Mas said, "No. Thank you. I will search them myself." He went back in his suites and closed the door, muttering, "Where did he go? How will I find him?"

He nearly had a coronary when a disembodied voice, easily recognizable as belonging to Mr. Morden, said, "We will find you, Ambassador. We will find you."

As Mas calmed down, he made plans to contact the Imperial Fleet Command and Tal'Shiar about Mr. Morden. The Star Empire had never managed to create a personal cloaking device. Ambassador d'Ry Mas intended to have scanners ready the next time the human appeared.

**Somewhere beyond Known Space**

Galen gazed into the small crystal ball in held in his hands. It was showing the dimensional rift leading to the Federal Universe. A few starships of various shapes and sizes milled in front of the rift and beyond, but all were clearly Starfleet. Vree saucers also moved among the Federation starships, attending to the construction of a new jumpgate some distance away from the rift.

A cloaked man stood in the doorway of Galen's room in the Tower of the One Above All. "Galen…. Galen. The Circle requires your presence."

"I'm busy."

"They know of your activities. You will come to them…or they will come to you. Either way, you will be called to account."

Galen sighed, still looking at the crystal ball. "We are all called to account, sooner or later. To whom am I supposed to explain my behavior?"

"To everyone involved."

"Everyone? It must be a very large room."

"Galen."

"All right, all right. Show me the way."

The cloaked man stepped aside and a path of stars appeared on the ground, showing the way. Galen looked down the path, still holding the crystal ball. "The long road. But then, it's always the long road, isn't it? And you…." He looked back to the crystal ball at the Federation starships gathered at the dimensional rift. "You may be called to account sooner than you imagined."

xxxxxxxx

Galen was now standing before a group of cloaked and hooded technomages standing in a circle around a pedestal supporting a large crystal ball. Opposite Galen was the One Above All, Jamis, sitting in his throne. Standing at Jamis' right hand was Galen's mentor, Elric.

"It's a mistake," Elric was saying. He sounded disappointed. "You shouldn't have gone out there. Bad enough you've been sending probes outside, sending signals that could be traced back to us, but this? You're endangering all of us."

Another technomage spoke with a feminine voice. That, of course, didn't have to mean a female person. Any technomage could choose the voice desired. Even so, Galen recognized the technomage. Tamyrlin. "We agreed to have no contact with the outside."

Galen stood straighter. "And if our silence means the death of billions?"

Elric said, "There is a reason for our isolation. The Shadows are moving in the night outside and war is raging. We left that to keep our secrets from falling into the wrong hands."

"It's different now! The stakes are much higher now. Inaction would allow the Darkness to spread and dim the whole galaxy. We can no longer afford to keep running. We cannot depart this galaxy. The veil has not parted yet. If we choose to flee to the other universe, we cannot depart that galaxy either. I understand there is an energy barrier preventing escape into the intergalactic void."

"Perhaps that is so," said Elric. "These are insane times. We are forbidden any direct involvement. And yet, you have informed outsiders of the Ancient outpost on Earth. You have lent the power of your ship to Captain Kirk to kill a Shadow vessel. You have helped the Newcomers understand the properties of hyperspace. What are these but direct involvements? You risk exposing us to the universe."

Galen held his head forward to allow the shade of his hood to hide his eyes glaring at the other technomages. "If I had followed the non-interference directive, Earth would have been lost. An almost irresistible biomechanical hive-mind would have used the power and technology of Z'ha'dum to replace both the Darkness and Light with the Grayness of unreal existence."

Jamis, the One Above All and the High Seat of the Technomages, sedately raised a hand. "Brother Galen." Humor softened the High Seat's words as he spoke. "We may not be as stuck in our ways as you seem to think. Still, we cannot afford involving ourselves in the war outside."

Galen bowed to Jamis. Not even he would be foolish enough to defy the One Above All. "We all have an inkling of what is at stake. Yes, we must protect ourselves but we cannot do so by abandoning those we left behind."

Jamis sighed tremulously. "We will allow you to continue. A warning, Brother. If your actions compromise our hiding places and places of power, if we risk death because of your action, understand that you will be the first to die."

Galen bowed once more, gratefully, as a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder swept through the chamber in the Tower. He was now alone there with Jamis. He wondered whether the High Seat had caused the other technomages to leave or they had voluntarily left or they were still here but allowing them the illusion of privacy. It didn't matter anyway.

Jamis leaned forward in his throne, looking sympathetic. "One more thing, Brother Galen. Fear makes wise men foolish. In your case, I can only hope it makes fools wise."

Jamis dissolved in flames. Galen was now as alone as he could be in the Tower.

**Babylon 5**

Sheridan and Garibaldi were watching ISN on a wall monitor in the captain's office. _"…and to confirm earlier reports, President Clark has refused to rescind the decree of martial law throughout Earth Central, citing continued threats to planetary security in spite of a major EarthForce victory at Jupiter against the as-yet unknown alien invaders. He's expected to provide information to support this decision at a closed meeting of the full Earth Senate tomorrow. In related news, in the Vatican, Pope Joan II urged calm for the citizens of Earth but criticized President Clark—"_

"Off!" ordered Sheridan, disgusted. "A major victory for EarthForce, my ass!"

Garibaldi shrugged. "Welcome to the universe where no good deed goes unpunished."

The station commander shook his head wearily. "I don't like where this is going, Mike. I don't like this at all. If the President keeps the martial law going, the Senate wouldn't like it. At least he hasn't expanded the martial law to other colonies."

"Yet, you mean," said Garibaldi.

Sheridan shot him a dirty look. "I thought you're not Russian?"

Garibaldi chuckled, then wore a worried expression. "They haven't mentioned the Enterprise. I would have thought Clark would harp on that for all it's worth."

"I don't know. You got a point there. Maybe they're still sweeping the debris for bits of technology?" Sheridan shook his head. "Why me? Why?"

The Italian man shrugged again. "Remember Ivanova's Law. 'When things are bad, they CAN get worse!'"

Sheridan rolled his eyes. "Like I need to hear that."

A noise came from the office's entrance and the two men turned to see what it was. Captain Areel Shaw entered, looking expectant.

"Captain Shaw…?" Sheridan wasn't expecting her.

"Captain." Areel nodded her greeting. "I was told to be here and that it was…urgent."

Garibaldi crossed his arms, looking suspicious. "Who told ya?"

"I did."

They turned around to see Delenn coming from the entrance.

Sheridan's face brightened. "Delenn! I thought you were…at—at Wolf 359!"

Gladness creased Delenn's face. "I was not there, as you can see, John. I was attending to a certain…matter in Minbari space." Her face clouded as she turned to Areel. "I have received a report from the Rangers. Captain James Kirk is alive."

"Alive!" exclaimed a surprised Areel. "But…the ship…. It was destroyed before he could be transported!"

Delenn stole a glance at Sheridan. She was guiltily glad that Sheridan wasn't captured. "Captain Kirk was captured by a group of EarthForce boarders and taken in a heavily armored breaching pod when the Enterprise self-destructed."

"This changes everything!" said Areel. "I must inform Starfleet of this! Where is he? Where?"

The Minbari ambassador's eyes dropped to the floor. "He is being held on Mars."

**Mars **

James Tiberius Kirk was sitting in a chair and cuffed to it. His face was bruised and bloodied, and his white Starfleet captain's turtleneck shirt was torn and stained in place with the same color as the Starfleet tunic confiscated by his captors. He leaned down to his cuffed hands as far as he could, wincing from the aches. He felt for the metal collar around his neck and tried once more to wrench it off. An electrical charge hummed in the collar and he screamed before falling unconscious.

**Babylon 5**

Captains Spock, Sulu and Scott, and Dr. McCoy were gathered in Sheridan's office. Areel Shaw took a posture of officiousness, which had caused Garibaldi to wryly think before leaving them alone in the office. 'If she was an Earther, she would be working in President Santiago's office.'

"Gentlemen, as you know, Captain Kirk is alive and a prisoner on Mars. I am hereby modifying my offer to you accordingly—"

Scotty interrupted. "Ya mean we get to stay and rescue the Capt'n?"

Areel's face clouded with great patience. "No. Stay and all of you will stand in a general court-martial. Starfleet will send negotiators to the Earth Alliance for the release of Captain Kirk."

McCoy scoffed loudly and said, "Hell, you know as well as we do that the man calling himself President is a thug! He will lie through his teeth about how he's so sorry that Kirk is really not alive after all, how he's been shot while resisting arrest or escaping, how your information was wrong all along and Jim was really on the Enterprise when it blew! And—!"

"Doctor McCoy, you forget yourself!"

McCoy fell silent at the vehemence in Areel. If she reflected feelings in Starfleet Command, he wouldn't want to be in the Judge Advocate General's office itself.

Areel brought her breathing back down to normal and said, "Now. My offer is this: You go back home and allow yourselves reassigned to other posts and all members of your crews will be acquitted without an inquiry. And Starfleet will mount a direct rescue of Captain Kirk."

Spock raised an eyebrow, "Captain Shaw, I am curious. What will be the nature of the…'direct rescue' and the reassignments?"

Areel went down the line of Starfleet officers, handing each a compadd. "Each of you will be reassigned to specific posts suiting your merit. Most of you were supposed to retire some time ago when the Enterprise should have come to Earth Spacedock. As it is, the terms are generous. Dr. McCoy will be transferred to Starfleet Medical. Captain Scott will head the Starfleet Corps of Engineers. Captain Spock will have the choice of either remaining in Starfleet and be promoted to Admiral or become an ambassador with an honorary title of Admiral. He would be ambassador for the Federation to Romulus."

Scott looked inclined to protest loudly while Spock's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Before the Chief Engineer could anger Areel, Spock said, "Romulus? Have we opened a dialogue with the Romulan Empire?"

Areel glanced at the office windows with embarrassment. "Ah…kind of. Tension with the Romulans is escalating and diplomatic channels are chock full of talk. If we don't do something…war is possible."

The Starfleeters stared at Areel silently. War. Was it really so long ago that they came from Khitomer euphoric over the new peace and alliance with the Klingon Imperial Empire?

Areel continued speaking. "The rescue effort will be based on plans drawn up by Colonel West for the rescue of Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy from Qo'noS."

"My God!" exclaimed McCoy. "Starfleet must be mad! Jim is on Mars in this universe, not the Klingon homeworld, for God's sake!"

"Doctor, Starfleet Command believes and agrees that Operation Retrieve can be modified for conditions in this universe. This is where Captain Sulu comes in. The Excelsior will be the vessel with the tactical superiority, so it will lead the fleet."

Sulu looked dubiously at the compadd given by Areel. "This is…daring to say the least, Captain. We'd be lucky if the Earth Alliance doesn't declare war on the Federation over this."

Areel stepped up to the office window overlooking the garden of Babylon 5. "We are confident that we can pull this off with minimal acceptable loss of equipment and manpower."

Scotty said, "Request to transfer myself to the Excelsior's crew immediately."

"Request denied," said Areel curtly without even looking back. She then turned to face the men once more. "So, gentlemen? What do you say?"

The men exchanged uneasy looks, eyes heavy with indecision.

xxxxxxxx

An attractive blonde woman stepped out of the line coming out of Customs, looking exasperated at the crowd. Spotting John Sheridan, she hefted her briefcase and rushed over to him.

"Captain Sheridan? Julie Musante, Ministry of Peace. Thank you for meeting me."

Sheridan guardedly shook hands with Julie. "Nice meeting you, Ms. Musante. If I had known you were coming…."

Julie smiled brightly. "That's quite all right, John. I can call you John? Thanks! Do you think my bags can be taken to some appropriate quarters? I'll be here for a while."

Sheridan frowned. "I'm…not sure what's your purpose here."

Julie laughed softly. "Of course, John. The Ministry of Peace, the NightWatch Division, has assigned me here under the direct authority of the Babylon 5 Senate Oversight Committee, and the President, of course." She beamed at Sheridan with a big smile. "I'm to be your new political officer!"

Sheridan blinked at Julie as he walked with her. Aw hell! The Earth martial law, through Julie Musante, was about to get uncomfortably close. Things _were_ about to get worse for him.

**The Apostolic Palace, Vatican City, Earth**

Pope Joan II was in bed, reading official documents. She needed to get in contact with the Martian Provisional Governor Xavier Montoya about the President's martial law. She had been silent ever since Clark was sworn in office, and felt that it was time for her to speak up against him before it was too late. She didn't want posterity to see her as another Pius XII, also known as Hitler's Pope.

She sighed and put down the papers on her lap. She sipped coffee generously provided by Cardinal Paolo Pacelli from a delicate porcelain cup, looking at the Renaissance mural on a wall in her bedchamber. It showed a beautiful young woman with beautiful blonde tresses. The woman was supposed to be a saint, but Joan thought it more likely that she was the infamous Lucrezia Borgia. Joan glanced at the little bedside clock. She hoped that Cardinal Zhou Kiang would arrive sooner than later.

At that moment, Cardinal Zhou, a native of China and the Vatican Prelate of Mars, was walking up the wide monumental winding stairs in the Apostolic Palace. He expected his secret night meeting with Pope Joan II to be about his status as a _papabile_, a potential candidate for the next papacy. He crossed himself against the thought of Joan's untimely death.

**EarthDome, Geneva, Earth**

President Morgan Clark stood at the windows of his office, watching the EarthForce Elite Guard move into position around the Palace of Nations where the Earth Senate met and had offices. He had just issued an Executive Order dissolving the Senate. The fools. They had virtually and very loudly kicked him off the Senate floor over his refusal to rescind the martial law decree now that the Borg threat was over. He wasn't about to let the stupid senators drag him before the Senate Investigative Committee, not when Earth was beset with dangerous aliens. If only they knew….

**Apostolic Palace**

Cardinal Zhou Kiang continued to walk up the marble stairs, ignoring the old works of arts partially hidden in the darkness. Why couldn't the Vatican modernize the Palace with an elevator useable by everyone? Sure, there's the centuries-old elevator installed for invalid popes and cardinals long ago, but it was not for general use. Besides, he was sure that the age of it made it unsafe.

He was surprised by someone in the shadows. A flash of a pure white dress was all he saw when he was pushed over the stair balustrade and fell, his red silk cardinal's robes fluttering before he met the marble floor far below with a sickening thump.

Sister Vicenza, the Pope's housekeeper, held up an electric lamp fashioned to emulate a Renaissance lamp as she walked down the palace corridor. The brilliantly painted murals and statues danced in the light. The nun came upon the door to the Papal bedchamber. She could see light shining from under the door, so she knocked softly. _"Papisa? Madre?"_

Hearing no response, Sister Vicenza concluded that the Pope was sleeping. She came in to turn out the light quietly and halted in her tracks, her face turning white. Joan II was lying in bed, her face frozen in a rictus of agony, eyes staring blankly. A tiny porcelain cup lay broken on the floor, the colored marble stained with spilt coffee.

Vicenza ran down the corridor of the Apostolic Palace, screaming, _"Il Papisa è morta! Mortiii! Jesu Cristu! La Madre Sacra è mortaaaa!"_

**EarthDome**

President Clark was still standing at the windows. The Chief of Staff, Bill Harris, had just told him that half the senators were on the run, while some were caught and arrested. Others were still in their offices, refusing to leave. Fools. Some of them even desperately called in every favor they could, trying to get the military. He smiled. That had failed, showing that EarthForce agreed with him completely. Traitors.

The flash and noise of explosions and gunfire came. Ah good. The Elite Guard is finally forcing an end to the siege on the Palace of Nations.

A door opened in his office behind Clark. It was Cardinal Paolo Pacelli resplendent in his red silk robe, white lace over-robe, and red short elbow-length cape.

"Mr. President…. The Holy Mother, Pope Joan II, is dead. God rest her soul."

Clark said, "I see. I assume you will call for a conclave of the College of Cardinals for the election."

Paolo nodded, ignoring the firefight in the street outside. Holy men like him were above such mundane worldly matters. "Yes. When the Holy Conclave finally comes out of the Sistine Chapel, you will know me as…Pius XIII."

President Clark smiled as the flash of explosions lit his shaded face from the windows. It was all coming together for him.


	24. Dark is the Light

"Dark is the light, the man you fight,

With all your prayers, incantations,

Running away, a trivial day,

Of judgment and deliverance,

To whom was sold, this bounty soul,

A gentile or a priest?"

—Soad, pen-name for an anonymous Knight Templar poet,12th century Earth

James Tiberius Kirk is in a cell full of...silence. They've left him alone to allow his imagination to work. It was standard procedure, he knew. Very well. Every person in Starfleet Academy has been trained and instructed in the various forms of interrogation they might be subjected to in their careers. He felt the metal collar on his neck put their by his captors. It was very similar to the slave-collar he once got from the Providers of Triskelion. What did Drill Thrall Shana call them? Collars of obeidance. He smiled mirthlessly at the irony. This time, he didn't have Shana to teach him and goad him to fight. He thought of Spock, of all the mistreatments the universes had heaped on him, and clenched his fists. He hoped that the semi-telepathic bond they had built over the years would let Spock know that he was still alive.

The cell was lit by a weak bulb above the door, imprisoned in its own rusty metal cage. Kirk rested his head against the damp concrete of the cell. Every part of his body, all those he could name, ached. Yet his captors couldn't have worked on him for more than five minutes, and they managed not to leave any apparent mark on his face. They were truly experts. Human experts. Not alien. Not Romulan or Klingon. Human. The irony didn't escape him. He almost laughed but that hurt his ribs, so he stopped.

xxxxxxx

Kirk was taken along the dark hallway by unseen custodians. The gravity in this place felt too light to be Earth. Mars? Or one of the Galilean Moons orbitting Jupiter? He was deposited in a chair in an interview room. The darkness in the room didn't allow him to glimpse walls, but it was light enough for him to see a table and a human man with a long face sitting in the chair on the other side of the table. The handcuffs were swiftly and efficiently removed from Kirk's wrists.

The man glanced at papers on the table and began to speak in the way of businessmen at a negotiation. "Do you have any illnesses or allergies that I should know about? Are you currently taking any medication? Have you had any trouble with your heart? When I ask a question you will respond at once. You will not hesitate, you will not consider, you will not lie. Cooperation will be rewarded. Resistance will be punished. Do you understand?"

Kirk was tempted to utilize one of Spock's quirks and arch an eyebrow at the human in the business suit. Standard procedure again—first the hard interrogator, then the soft interrogator. There was a phrase for that on Old Earth: 'the good cop, bad cop routine.' Slowly, he stood up and moved towards the interrogator. The metal collar on his neck glowed with an electric shock.

"If you come within three feet of me you will be hurt, if you come within two feet of me you will be rendered unconscious." The interrogator shuffled through the papers on the table as he continued to speak. "I am here only to ensure your cooperation. To that end, I will use whatever means I can to achieve that goal. Do you understand?"

A sullen nod.

"Do you have any illnesses or allergies that I should know about? Are you currently taking any medication? Have you had any trouble with your heart?"

"No."

"Good." The interrogator put on his glasses and smiled. "Then we can begin."

It was almost surreal for Kirk. So far, the interrogator acted like a regular bureaucrat at his

job. He even attempted a weak joke.

"Normally, we would arrest a family relative and threaten him to encourage your cooperation. We feel that would be counterproductive for a man like you. As we know, you have no famly. Not even a home." He leaned back in his chair, smiling, and pointed a pen at Kirk. "Nevertheless, you are a remarkable man."

"'Remarkable'—your word." Kirk felt as if he had spent a week chewing cotton in his mouth. At one point in his beating, he had bitten his tongue.

"You have managed to have no family or established home," said the human. "You have managed to procure a heavily armed space vessel of alien design and obvious great technological prowess, and to crew it without allowing any Earth agency to find out. With it, you have managed to infiltrate the Sol System, our home system, without tripping our detection systems and helped eliminate the biggest alien threat since the Minbari War. Clearly, in spite of your sedition, you still have some loyalty to Earth. You should feel some pride."

Kirk decided to adopt Spock's infamous veneer. "At this moment, my feelings toward Earth are indeed strong."

The man didn't appear to notice the non-sequitur as he turned the pages of a folder. "There are two issues here, Mr. Kirk. One: your apparent non-identity in our files in spite of your obvious Earth origin. That doesn't concern us today. At least not directly. Two: our conduct over the past months. Specifically, the procurement of an advanced alien warship and the use of it to subvert loyal EarthForce officers, to destabilize areas of space that have enjoyed peace and order since the Dilgar War, and to incite alien worlds against the good intentions of the Earth Alliance."

"The Enterprise is—was—not a warship. It was a ship of exploration."

"Since when does exploration require the presence and use of powerful advanced weaponry?"

"Since we found out that the galaxy is a dangerous place."

The interrogator silently looked at Kirk, nodding in calm agreement. He glanced at the folder once more. "You named your ship the 'Enterprise', a name that is clearly of Earth English origin. In our files, we could find that name on ships in Earth's history: the HMS Enterprize in the British Royal Navy, the USS Enterprise in the United States Navy and the United States space shuttle Enterprise. Clearly, you are a patriot. Yet, I do not understand your acts of sedition against Earth, Mr. Kirk."

Kirk said, "I am James T. Kirk, a fleet captain in the United Federation of Planets Starfleet, serial number SC937-0176 CEC. I was born in Riverside, Iowa, North America on March 22, 2233. Iowa is on another Earth in another universe. I don't see how the Earth Alliance could see me as a patriot or a rebel."

The interrogator frowned, looking puzzled. "That is not possible. The year of birth as you stated does not fit your apparent age. I don't know any political entity called 'the United Federation of Planets'. It sounds like a distasteful mix of the Minbari Federation and the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. The existence of other universes have not been proven, notwithstanding hyperspace. Surely, you have not been made psychologically vulnerable to alien influences?"

A scoff showed what Kirk thought of that.

"Maybe this 'Federation' of yours is the planned result of the changes you and your confederates are trying to bring about, not in another universe. Maybe you already feel to be a member of that organization. An organization, I must add, that doesn't exist in any starchart. Maybe you are helping the Minbari bring the League Worlds into their fold. Of course those weak alien worlds would be gullible. What were your plans, Mr. Kirk?"

Kirk said, "I am James T. Kirk, serial number SC937-0176 CEC, United Federation of Planets Starfleet, rank: Fleet Captain."

The interrogator sighed and tried another tact. "Do you deny that you were trying to realign the League Worlds?"

"No."

"Where did you get your ship?"

In all honest innocence, Kirk replied, "At Spacedock."

The man was making notes. "Which spacedock?"

"It's a starbase in orbit around Earth."

The metal collar around Kirk's neck hummed and glowed with electricity, causing him to grit his teeth in pain.

"Don't play with me, Mr. Kirk. We have methods for lie detection." The man sighed. "All right. 'Starbase' sounds like a type of Minbari military space installation. Judging by the design of your ship, let's say it's a secret Minbari space station in orbit around one of the Vree planets. Which is it? Vreetan? Alzeral? Deruzala? Photikar? Don't tell me Gliese 86... The Centauri destroyed that."

Breathing heavily, Kirk shrugged. "I've never been to those places."

The interrogator thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. He leafed through his folder again. He noticed Kirk gingerly rubbing his neck above the metal collar. He pointed his pen at the metal collar. "That is a paingiver. It's one of the technologies the Narn sold Earth in the Minbari War. Centauri technology, of course."

"Of course."

"You've been tortured before." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. Many times."

The man raised his eyebrows. "I see. Did they involve a paingiver?"

"Not quite. This collar is a lot like what I found on Triskelion."

The man joted a note in the folder. "We believe that the technologies apparent on your ship is not quite beyond the scientific capability of the Earth Alliance. What are the nature of the technologies?"

"I'm not an engineer."

"Of course not. Still, you must have some familiarity with them. There must be other ships like yours. Logically, they should have access codes. Also logically, there must be shipyards for those ships connected to a base of operations. Where are they? What are the access codes?"

"How should I know?"

"You should know because you commanded one of those ships."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, Mr. Kirk. Earth has advanced by leaps and bounds ever since the Centauri contacted us a century ago. However, it is not enough. Earth needs the technologies your confederates have. Too many alien worlds out there are still more advanced than us. You said that the galaxy is a dangerous place. I agree completely. So does EarthGov. I assume you know who Christopher Columbus was?"

"Yes."

The interrogator leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "When he found the Americas by accident, the continents had rich native civilizations but none of them had the technical military expertise to match that of Spain or the other nations of Europe. Within a century, all of those civilizations were dead, conquered by the Europeans. The lesson is that when a more advanced civilization meets another primitive civilization, the primitive one will fall. Survival of the best rather than of the fittest. That is the lesson the Minbari reminded us in the last war. And we learned it again before you destroyed the Borg. In spite of your present situation, we are thankful for that. The galaxy is full of powerful and advanced aliens like the Minbari and the Vorlon Empire. Especially the Vorlons. Mr. Kirk, you are human. You must, then, agree that humanity needs to survive to prosper in this dangerous galaxy of ours?"

"All sentient life have a right to exist."

"Creating a federation of worlds capable of building ships like yours, then excluding Earth from that federation doesn't permit us that right. You can change that. Help us and, together, we can stop the aliens from sending Earth the way of the Aztecs and the Incas. What are the access codes to your ships?"

"You said that Earth has been growing for a century. If aliens are really trying to make humanity extinct, they have had plenty of time in that century."

The business-suited man threw down his pen and folded his arms. "You're a smart man, Mr. Kirk. Take comfort in the fact we credit you with that, at least. Do you think we'd care if you were a dumb fat pawn? I bet you could keep this up for hours. But we don't have a lot of time. We're less stupid than you think." He smirked. "Which reminds me..."

An electric shock passed through Kirk and he screamed in agony.

"Never contradict me." The interrogator looked through some paperwork as Kirk watched, panting. He finally smiled and played his ace. "We could always have a PsiCop come in and rip the knowledge out of your mind."

A cold chill went through Kirk. He'd read the reports on Director T'Sara's torture by Earth telepaths at Janos 7. He knew from experience that he had a high threshold for pain. At least for a time. But he hadn't much experience with telepathic interrogations. If a telepath dug into his mind, the lives of his friends and allies would be in danger. Especially the lives of Captain Sheridan and his subordinate officers. He didn't let his apprehension of that show. "You could."

The interrogator shrugged. "Yes. We could. But business with the PsiCorps is always distasteful. Besides, how could we trust telepaths to tell us all of what they find out? They could easily rip information from a mind, then tell us only a little and keep the rest for themselves. I would recommend that you cooperate before we have to resort to using a PsiCop."

Kirk just sat in his chair silently.

The interrogator sighed and stood up. He came around the table and squatted beside Kirk, his right hand resting on the captain's left knee. "When this is over, I'd like to get to know you. Really. If there's anything left of you to get to know, of course. Why did someone like you go bad? A human going against his own race and homeworld. I'm interested. From a technical point of view, of course. To try and stop it happening in the future."

"Your passion for self-improvement is admirable."

"There it is again. A problem of attitude. Things are changing in the Earth Alliance, James. I can call you James?"

"Please do." Kirk's sarcasm didn't seem to be noticed, either.

"The President himself takes a personal interest in the changes. He listens to us, promotes us. He believes in restructuring Earth for the future. Soon, a new generation will grow up, never knowing what we learned when the Minbari smashed through our colonies to our very doorstep. Without guidance, the new generation will make mistakes. Mistakes of the kind we made that started the Minbari War. I admit that even those who went through the war could still make those mistakes especially when there are alien ideas creeping into the Alliance. The President wants to make sure Earth doesn't join the list of murdered worlds. When he succeeds, our children can truly grow up and enjoy all that Earth has to offer. You could be a key in that." The man moved closer to Kirk and whispered in his ear, "I like you. Help me and I can keep the PsiCorps out of your mind."

The unnamed man stood up and resumed his normal veneer of interrogation. "Where can we find the ships? What are the nature of the technologies on your ship? What are the access codes?"

Those three questions, again and again.

**Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

Londo Mollari searched Vir's face on the screen. His young attache looked free from stress. But his eyes... He remembered that Vir's eyes were once filled with that light of naivette. That light of eagerness to know the universe's potential. He saw himself in those eyes when Londo first entered the Royal Court before Turhan sent him to the embassy on Earth.

Hard to believe that when he was just Londo Mollari, Hero of Frallis 12, he was like Vir all those ears ago.

He had decided to stamp out that light. Londo, in spite of himself and in spite of his instincts for the Great Game, wanted Vir to survive the machinations of other Houses long enough to enjoy old age. Now the light was almost all gone from Vir's eyes. In times like this, Londo could almost feel regret steering Vir into the Game of Houses.

He wondered if one day, his 'training' of Vir wouldn't come back to bite Londo like a cat.

He shook the thought of his head. The Royal Court must be getting to him.

"_Are you all right, Londo?"_ Concern now clouded Vir's face on the commscreen.

"Faugh! Why wouldn't I be all right, hmmm? I enjoy the Emperor's favor. Better, the sun still rises on Centauri Prime and I've not turned into a biomechanical automaton."

"_Then...then there is no need for the alliance with the Minbari?"_

Londo rolled his eyes. "Of cooourse there's a need for it! There's always a need for an alliance with the Minbari. They're the hope of Centauri Prime now. Once, we thought the Earthers would be the hope of the Republic. Once, we thought to ride on the humans'

growth like a...a...a remora on a shark! Yes? We have a full-fledged alliance with Earth but I wonder if that wasn't a mistake. There is a darkness in the Earth government. Maybe the same darkness that I brought to Homeworld."

Vir now frowned. _"We've known the Minbari for centuries. In all that time, we have not...earned their respect."_

"Vir, Vir, Vir. Time changes. It can change for us! Just look at their relationship with Earth! They pushed the humans to the brink of extinction, then turned around and offered them an alliance!"

"_I don't know... They know about our treatment of the Narns, you know. They seem to like me here, but I don't think they...approve of the Republic. Are you sure there is no other alternative? Couldn't we ask the other humans? You know? The Federationers?"_

"We've antagonized them more than enough. Let's not antagonize them anymore, Vir. Besides, here at the Royal Court, the Federationist faction simply doesn't exist. The Court is overwhelmingly Earthist."

"_What about the R-Romulans?"_

Londo shrugged. "They seem too interested in helping us crush the insurgents and destroying the Xonish race helping the Narns. Other than that, they're busy improving our fleets for the continued expansion of the Great Republic."

"_I...see. Actually, I don't see. I'm all the way here on Minbar. Not my business here. By the way, I heard rumors about the Emperor getting...married?"_

Londo gleefully nodded. "Yes! Yes! You know the beautiful bride."

"_Oh?"_

"Mariel."

Vir's face visibly paled. _"Are-are-are you mad? No. Don't answer that. I have my own conclusions. I wonder if she would be...too...umm...strong for the Emperor."_

Londo wondered the same thing. He had once explained Mariel to Commander Sinclair at Babylon 5: she was attracted to powerful men like one of those Earth insects that are attracted to fire, but instead of the moth getting burnt, she burned the men. Londo thanked

all the 50 major gods that he wasn't burnt. Not too badly burnt, at any rate.

"The Emperor is supposed to embody the Republic." ondo chuckled. "If he couldn't control the woman, then the Republic can't handle her! Now, Vir, I'm glad we had this little chat. I have to go to the ceremony at Tuwaine. Cartagia got an appointment with the High

Prophetess for Mariel."

Vir's face didn't express a vote of confidence. Londo wasn't sure which part of his last statement it was directed at. _"I'd sooner not go to a prophetess to know my own future, thank you very much. I make my own future. Londo, rumors of the Royal Court has reached even here on Minbar. Rumors of Cartagia's...excesses, and of Lord Refa. Do be careful!"_

"Eehhh. You listen to rumors too much, I think. Not a good sign. Just as I thought: Minbar is boring. I can take care of myself, Vir."

"_Okay, if you say so. Goodbye. I hear the breezes over the River Tuwain and the Scoria Plains are most bracing. Enjoy!"_

Through Londo's window, the skyline was dictated by the domes and towers of Imperial City. Over the centuries, emperors and great lords added their own architectural contributions to the capital. Ever since the Xon War and the alien Shoggren invasion, no one had the chance or the power to invade and destroy the city. Nowadays, the possibility for that happening is much greater than even in the darkest days of the Republic's decline. If Lord Refa had his way, that possibility could easily become reality.

Soon, House Refa would be dealt with. He would have preferred to remove just Antono Refa, but the Great Game wouldn't allow any surviving family member to not thirst for vengeance against House Mollari. Better to remove them all before a war of assassins and poisons could derail everything. Londo hoped that would steer him away from the path leading to the spectacle of Centauri Prime burning.

**Mars**

Interrogations have an irony in themselves: they can tell the victims being questioned as much as the questioners.

From what the interrogator asked, Kirk could measure his knowledge. For instance, he knew that the Enterprise appeared from the direction of the Vree homesystems, going through Centauri space. He knew that his starship was there when the Markab people

were cured of the Drafa Plague, when the Centauri, and subsequently EarthForce, came in force to Babylon 5 and were defeated. He knew that there were aliens and telepaths among his crew. But there was a very large gap in his knowledge. Unless his interrogator was

playing a game, it would seem that he knew nothing about Kirk's publicized origin in another universe, nothing about the existence of other starships like the Excelsior and the Hakudo Maru, and nothing about his alliance with the Rangers apparently commanded by

Sheridan and Delenn. Here, upon Sulu and the Rangers, rested Kirk's hope.

Of course, if they decide to bring in a PsiCop, they might be able to ferret out that information. Sheridan and his Conspiracy of Light would be fatally exposed.

After an unproductive hour, the door opened and another human man in an immaculate EarthForce uniform entered, carrying a long rounded beam of polished wood. Behind him stood two heavily muscled men in black uniforms.

Kirk's interrogator stood up from his chair.

The new arrival asked, "Has he made a full confession?"

"No."

"Pity. I think it's my turn, then."

"Of course." The interrogator collected his papers and folder, stuffing them into a leather briefcase. Was it Kirk's imagination or did he see on the long face a flicker of regret, even of distaste?

After the interrogator was gone, the new man prowled around the room, dragging the length of polished wood behind himself on the concrete floor.

"Do you know what this is?" The EarthForce officer waited. "No?"

Kirk shrugged. "I might have seen it on Cestus Three."

"It's a baseball bat. You know baseball? An old game, popular in the 20th and 21st centuries. Few places on Earth and on Mars still play it. There's even a baseball field at Babylon 5. That's must be where you've seen a bat. Not at some fictional planet."

He leaned the bat against the table and began to take off his EarthForce jacket, revealing the white shirt beneath it. "If you want my opinion, the mistake was in the Dilgar War when we joined the League in fighting the Dilgars. We were forced to open up the Earth Alliance to alien influences and ideas. That's when we got scum like you and shriveled cunts like Santiago. Doesn't matter if the Dilgars conquered and murdered the whole League. We would have defeated them at any time we want. Hell! When the Minbari came, what did the League do to return the favor? Did they help us? No! They did nothing! Nothing!"

He hung his jacket on the chair vacated by the interrogator and began rolling up his sleeves. Kirk could see that this officer didn't allow his muscles to atrophy in the nullgrav environment of EarthForce ships. "We used to know how to deal with people like you in the Minbari War. But we've gone soft. It's not 'Does he have the guts?' It's 'Does he have a doctorate?' We didn't need doctorates to fight the Minbari. Fuck, I think the man you were screwing just now is one of your lot. He wanted subtlety in questioning you. Subtle, my ass. What's the point? If you love aliens enough to betray your humanity, you are not human anymore. You don't need subtlety anymore. If you were my dog, I'd feed you poison."

"If I was your dog, I'd eat it."

The officer grinned at one of the guards. "Listen to the big sucker!" He spat on his hands and picked up the baseball ball. "Someone told me that palm-reading can say a lot about your life and your future. I think it's all bull. But it never hurts to know. So tell me. Are you left-handed or right-handed?"

"Left-handed."

"Another fucking lie. Put your right arm on the table."

Kirk felt as if a giant snake had him in its coiling grasp. He could hardly breathe. "Go to the bathroom and screw yourself."

The EarthForce officer glanced at the guards. Powerful hands seized Kirk from behind. His chair clattered away as he was bent headfirst over the table. One of the big men twisted his left arm high up his back, wrenching it. A roar of pain escaped Kirk's mouth as the other man grabbed his right hand. The guard half-climbed onto the table and grinded his knee into Kirk's right forearm, forcing the captain to lay his right hand, palm down, on the table surface.

Just like that, in just a few seconds, only his fingers were able to move, fluttering like a trapped bird.

The EarthForce officer stood away from the table, caressing the tip of his bat across Kirk's knuckles almost lovingly. He lifted it, swung it around in a circle like an ax, and with all his strength, brought it smashing down.

**Tuwaine, Centauri Prime**

Londo stood on the town's quays, ignoring the fishermen and pleasure-seekers plying the River Tuwain. Across the river, he could see the Scoria Plains stretching far into the distance. He thought if he could see far and clear enough, he would see a sea-inlet and the memorial obelisk on its shore.

The memorial obelisk was all that marked the site of the ancient city of Yandantrio. Built like Earth's Venice, Yandantrio fell to the Xon and its million Centauri slaughtered. Shortly after, armies marched to the banner of Emperor Morell who then fought a Xon army in a titanic bloody battle on the Scoria Plains. So many bodies, both Centauri and Xon, littered the grassland, too many for the burial and cremation crews to find. Ancient merchants claimed to smell the stench of death even five years afterwards.

Great Maker, the Scoria Plains looked so empty. Impossible flatness as far as the eye could see and no trees at all to break the monotony. Impossible visible emptiness.

Ridiculous to think that emptiness could be seen. Emptiness was so private it could only be felt. Emptiness felt like gravity. He had met it first when his dearest friend Urza Jaddo died on Londo's sword on Babylon 5, thanks to machinations of House Refa. Met it rather than thinking he knew emptiness. It was what threatened to suck him down when he stood too near the abyss. It was partly what convinced him to cut relations with that fiend, Mr. Morden.

It was also partly the reason for his being here in Tuwain with Emperor Cartagia and the new empress, Mariel. Remove House Refa and make the emptiness a little less empty, keep the emptiness, and the darkness it entails, from swallowing Centauri Prime.

"Enjoying the breezes, eh, Londo?"

Startled, the ambassador turned. He was relieved to find that it wasn't Vir. At the same time, his guard went up very high and taut. After all, it was the Emperor and his eternal Royal Guards.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Most bracing, the breezes."

Cartagia waved off Londo's response. "Please. You are my friend. Don't call me 'Your Majesty'. It's stuffy and it forces formality to come between us."

Londo carefully said, "Thank you."

A frown flickered across the Emperor's face almost imperceptably.

"Sire," added Londo.

The happy veneer swiftly returned to Cartagia. "While Mariel is with the Prophetess, let us talk."

Londo bowed his thanks. "About...Refa?"

"You know, there's an Earth animal that fascinates me. It's a domestic animal. Once grown, it's aloof and forces the humans to cater to its every need. It won't submit to working for the humans at all. Very like an emperor. I believe there once was a culture on Earth that worshipped the animal as a god. What's it called?" Cartagia snapped his fingers, brightening. "Cat!"

Londo wasn't sure, but he was not about to contradict the Emperor. "Yes, Sire. I believe it goes 'quack, quack' and nibbles you to death."

The Emperor was momentarily puzzled, then kept to his train of thought. "Maybe. I think there's a game that cats play. They would catch an offending little animal and play with it. Pass it from paw to paw." Here, Cartagia mimed the play. "Pretend to forget it, then go back to play some more, inventing every game it could think of for the little creature. Meanwhile, the creature's scared and keeps expecting to die at any moment."

Londo was feeling a deep empathy with the creature caught by the cat. He hoped the Emperor wasn't playing with him.

Cartagia continued. "Finally, the creature is exhausted and stops expecting death. Instead, it

clings to the hope that the cat will get bored and go away, letting it escape with its life. In that moment, the cat...kills it!" His hands clenched into fists and pantomimed twisting and breaking a neck.

The Royal Guardsmen were still standing behind the Emperor, betraying no expression or emotion at all. Londo stole a quick look at them and softly felt his neck.

"What do you think, Londo?"

The ambassador recalled an ancient Earth story he'd read once. A man named Damocles complained about how much work he had to do while his king had all the power, leisure and luxury he could ever want. The king got tired of Damocles' complaints and made him king for one hour during a dinner party. The catch: a sword was hung over the man's head from a thread that could break at any moment. Damocles, of course, didn't thoroughly enjoy his dinner and new status as king for an hour. Once the hour was done and Damocles was still alive, the king told him that it was how he felt the whole time as king. Here, Londo was not a king, but he could feel Damocles' sword hanging over his head the

whole time he was at Court. "I... It does seem very Centauri. It's too bad that the Great Maker decided to put the cat on Earth rather than here."

Cartagia beamed at the ambassador proudly. "Yes! Yes, it is! Exactly my thought! We do think alike, Londo! That's why I'm going to let Refa live."

Covering up his puzzled disappointment, Londo bowed, muttering, "As you say, Sire." Was the reason for the Emperor's decision related to the story of the cat or to his ability to think the same thoughts as the Emperor?

"Londo, I will play with Refa. Let him keep his so-called ascendancy in the Royal Court. Let him gather all the supporters he could have while the cat, as you said, nibbles at him. When we go back to the capital, Refa will propose something for us. I'll let him. I'll even allow him to gain honor and power if the proposal's any good. At the right moment, Lord

Refa, his whole House and his entire faction at Court will feel this..." Cartagia pantomimed twisting and breaking a neck again.

Londo remembered Timov's warning that the Emperor could hardly be controlled. He prayed to the gods and the Great Maker that Mariel would help make the task a little easier.

**Mars**

Kirk didn't faint, not at first. The two guards finally let him go and he slid down to his knees, leaving a trail of saliva across the table surface. His arm was still stretched out. After a while, he raised his head and saw the remains of his hand. It appeared to be an alien pile of blood and gristle on a butcher's slab. He passed out.

xxxxxxxxx

Footsteps in the darkness. Voices.

"Where are the ships?"

Kick.

"What's the nature of your technologies?"

Kick.

"What are the access codes?"

Kick. Kick. A boot crunched onto his fingers, twisted and ground them into the concrete.

"Talk!"

A croaking voice: "I...I am...J-James T. Kirk, serial number SC937-0176 CEC, Starfleet. Rank: Fleet Captain."

"Wrong answer."

Kick.

xxxxxxxx

When Kirk swam back to consciousness, he was lying in a corner of his cell. His broken hand lay next to him, like a stillborn baby abandoned beside its mother. A man, the gentle interrogator who claimed to like him, was squatting in front of him, saying something. Kirk

tried to focus.

"What is this?" the interrogator's mouth was saying silently. "What does it mean?"

The interrogator seemed breathless, as if he had been running hard for a long time. He grasped Kirk's chin and twisted his face to the light above the cell door. He squeezed his eyes against the painful brightness. In another hand, the interrogator held up a sheaf of

two-dimensional images. What were they called? Photographs.

"What does this mean, James? They appeared out of nowhere. Tell me, please. What does it mean?"

Kirk tried harder to focus and could discern only two of the photos. One showed an Oberth-class starship against the backdrop of Babylon 5. Another showed a blurred image of several Federation starships of various classes in empty space. The blur gave the

illusion of speed while a Centauri Vorchan cruiser stood still in clarity in front of the stars behind the starships.

Kirk tried to think. What were they? They tickled him with familiarity. It hurt to think. What's more, it hurt to focus. He wrenched his head away and turned to face the cold moist concrete wall.

Some time later—he couldn't measure time anymore. Time seemed to speed up and to slow to a numbing crawl. Some time later, a white jacket appeared above him. A flash of steel. A thin blade held before his eyes. Kirk tried to back away, but the concrete wall held him forward and the paingiver collar hummed softly, paralyzing him. The needle jabbed into a vein. At first, pain whitewashed his mind as his mangled hand was touched, but, as the injected fluid flowed through his veins, the agony faded away.

The doctor was old, looked grandfatherly, and seemed to be grateful to Kirk for his current job. He probably didn't have much chance to work in this fashion since the Minbari War. He didn't speak. He cleaned the wound, painted it with a clear liquid that smelled of hospitals and morgues, and bound it tightly in a white gauze wrapping. Still not speaking, he and the gentle interrogator helped Kirk to his feet, settling him into his chair. A mug of sweet, milky coffee was set on the table before him.

The cycle of gentle interrogations and rough torture continued.

**Imperial City, Centauri Prime**

If Londo hadn't been standing with Minister Virini, he would never have seen it. The Royal Guardsman walked smartly down the palace corridor. His eyes stared straight ahead, never moving to the left or the right. His face never changed expression beneath the silver helmet. His jaw was set rigidly. The silver blaster-proof vest glittered in the light of the corridor chandeliers and the white uniform soaked up the light. Just for a tiny moment, the air behind the guardsman rippled slightly.

Londo blinked. Was it his imagination? He turned to Virini to see if the Minister of Protocols saw it too. The old man was admiring a gilt-framed painting hanging on the wall.

"Isn't it a wonderful painting, Londo?"

Londo stole a look over his shoulder at the retreating back of the Royal Guardsman and then glanced up at the painting. It was one of the many Earth paintings bought during the Earth-Minbari War. He looked at the engraved plaque beneath the portrait. _A Blonde Woman_ by Palma Vecchio, early 16th century. The woman set against the black background in the portrait was a Venetian courtesan who had her flowing hair dyed blonde with partial success. She was trying to keep a green cloak up on her white blouse which had fallen off a shoulder to expose an almost equally white breast.

He could see why Cartagia moved this painting into the palace from Turhan's museum of human Renaissance and Barogue art. He said half-heartedly, "Yes, it is, Minister."

"I like how it reminds me that even a woman, and a pretty one at that, can shine in darkness."

Virini was considered a foppish fool at Court, but Londo knew that allowed him to gather information that would be otherwise difficult to obtain, and to go where it would otherwise be barred. "Darkness...in the palace?"

Alarm widened Virini's eyes and he raised his hands to his mouth to signal silence. His voice dropped to a whisper while he pretended to continue admiring the human blonde. "Please do be careful. Even when you are alone, there are...ways for you to be heard." Virini turned to pretend admiring Londo's elaborate Court dress, while stealing looks straight into the ambassador's eyes. "There's a human saying about this. I believe it goes...'the walls have ears.'" The Minister suddenly began studying the nails on his

fingers. "Do you know that some humans still use languages of the hands?"

Londo nodded. He'd come across that in his studies of Earth. He tested Virini's extent of knowledge by making a fist and wagging it slightly up and down. **Yes.**

"Interesting allies we have, don't we, Londo?" Virini's hands and fingers moved slowly and awkwardly. If anyone else was watching, he would think the minister was making silly gestures as usual. He began by making a gesture like that of a person trying to scratch out his eyes and face. **Darkness here, yes. Don't know. Nothing. Don't want know. Warning: do not find out.**

"Yes, we do, Minister. We have always felt a kinship with the humans. It's their appearance, I think." **What you know?**

"I feel the humans feel the same way. I think it's also because of First Contact." **I said, don't try find out! People before try find out. Disappeared. Same for Pointy-ears.**

Londo's eyebrows climbed up his forehead in surprise. He had never seen that gesture, but as the minister used his thumb and finger to mime an ear turning up to a point, he knew it referred to the Romulans. Has the new aliens noticed and tried to investigate as well?

"The humans are aggressive. No. Make that eager. A very curious race. That's the beauty of youth. We were once like them centuries ago. Too bad they are having problems with themselves." **Pointy-ears disappeared too? Curious. They not upset?**

"Oh, yes. It's very upsetting to see some of our allies having problems. We could help, but it's their own internal affair." **I feel Refa involved.**

Londo nodded, catching the double meaning in the voiced statement. If Virini thought Lord Refa was involved somehow, the darkness could only be Mr. Morden's so-called associates. He remembered Morden mentioning that he asked Refa to secure a planet, Zagros 7, for his associates. "True enough. Now, if we don't go to the Personal Audience Hall, we'll miss Refa's famous proposal."

xxxxxxxx

The Royal Guard opened the ornate filigree gate and Lord Antono Refa strode in. He wasn't alone. Two Romulans walked beside him, one of whom was carrying what appeared to be a large silvery canister.

The Guards tensed at the canister, but seeing that the Emperor made no move, they remained at their posts. Londo and Virini recognized the pointy-eared aliens as

the Romulan ambassador, d'Ry Mas. The Romulan carrying the canister was the ambassador's bodyguard, T'Lees Mahdee Mas.

The Romulans bowed from the waist. "Jolan Tru, Most Illuminated Majesty."

Refa only bowed his head, as if Cartagia was a mere lord of a Great House. Londo's eyes shifted to the Emperor who only seemed to be bored.

"Lord Refa, we have learned that you have a proposal of far-reaching import."

"Yes, Your Majesty. In spite of our efforts to pacify and civilize the Narns, they continue to be a source of trouble for the Great Republic. In spite of our law demanding the death of 500 Narns for each Centauri killed, including the perpetrator's family, insurgency and terrorism still trouble Narn and its nearby colonies. In spite of the Narn Regime's unconditional surrender to us, illegal Narn ships still roam the spacelanes and inflict piracy on civilian and military vessels and outposts." Refa's face darkened. "Aliens unknown to us, but known to the Romulans as enemies, are helping the Narns, giving them force shield

technology and improvements in weaponry. These aliens seek to undermine and constantly violate the Great Republic's sovereignty. They may seek revenge for our complete victory in the Xon War, seeing as they are a Xonish race. The outrage of—"

Cartagia yawned and waved a hand at Refa. "We know all this and more. We do not need to belabor the problems. Do get to the point."

"Yes, Sire. We know that the Narn homeworld is a major point of contention with the insurgents and terrorists. The best way to end any insurgency without wasting military resources is to remove its point."

Londo frowned. Refa surely couldn't mean...?

Cartagia asked, "How?"

"Cobalt diselenide."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

Refa gestured to the two Romulans. "They will explain."

d'Ry Mas stepped forward. "If it would please Your Majesty..." At a signal, his bodyguard set the large canister on the floor, twisted its lid and grasped the handle attached to the lid. As Mahdee Mas slowly and carefully pulled up, the lid was revealed to be actually an apparatus holding thick vials of ice blue liquid. Thick mist seemed to boil out of the canister, spilling over the silver side to dissipate on the floor. The canister was actually a refrigeration unit.

As the Romulan bodyguard carefully slipped the vials back into the canister, d'Ry Mas continued. "This is cobalt diselenide. It is a concoction of the elements selenium and rhodium nitrite. It must be kept at a low temperature. We have...obtained the technology from a race in our universe called the Cardassians. We have found that the Narns share physiological similarities with the Cardassians, so cobalt diselenide will be effective for the Narn homeworld."

Cartagia was skeptical, but Londo had a sneaking suspicion. The Emperor, exasperated, said, "Again, what is that?"

"It would be what we call a biogenic weapon."

Londo, Cartagia and Virini gasped. A biological weapon! Inside the Royal Palace itself! The Royal Guardsmen tensed again, this time drawing swords and blasters.

Lord Refa hurried to calm the Emperor. "It is harmless to most humanoids. Even if we were to break the vials, nothing will happen. At least nothing will happen to us Centauri." He chuckled. "I wouldn't say the same for any Narn slave we have on Homeworld."

As the Emperor visibly relaxed, the Guardsmen holstered their weapons. Londo, however, was not feeling better at all. His sneaking suspicion had blown into a dawning horror. d'Ry Mas said, "Lord Refa is right. It is fatal only to those who have a Cardassian or Narn physiology or similar. It affects the nervous system. Six of this canister will render a planet uninhabitable by Cardassians and Narns for about 60 years. Any more, it would be made uninhabitable for approximately another 10 years per canister, with each vial being good for a month or so."

Londo had to stop this. "Great Maker! Is that necessary?"

Lord Refa noticed that the Emperor seemed content to let Londo argue the case. He said, "Not really, no. If we don't do this, the resources of the whole Republic will be _unnecessarily_ drained into efforts to keep the Narns under control."

"But...the slaves! We need the slaves for the market, the economy, the construction of new colonies and the terraforming projects!"

"Oh Londo, don't be so melodramatic! We will use it only on the Narn homeworld. The Narn colonies will continue to provide the slaves. If any of these colonies prove too troublesome to hold, we'll dump the cobalt diselenide on it. Any Centauri on it will be perfectly fine."

Horror twisted Londo's face. He could see G'Kar throwing a hyper-rage at the very suggestion. He could just see him blaming Londo for this! "Have you lost your mind? Do this and everyone else will see us as no better than the Dilgar! If you thought the Dilgar War was bad, just you wait! Your name will be as blackened as Jha'dur Deathwalker! If you don't think this will happen, you must be daft! Why, the Earth Alliance might decide that its alliance with us is no longer profitable. The new InterStellar Alliance will throw itself entirely against us! I doubt that even the Minbari would stay out of this! Need I remind you that when we bombed Narn, even the Vorlon Empire lodged an official protest? No telling what the Vorlons will do when we start murdering entire worlds as if we are a people of Deathwalkers!"

Refa slowly shook his head and smiled as if Londo was the dimwitted idiot at the Royal Court. "We don't need to publicize this at all. You must think we are stupid enough to make an announcement for the whole galaxy: 'Hear ye, hear ye! We are pumping worlds full of a foreign bioweapon! Come see billions of savages die! Only 5 ducats for the privilege to watch it all!' Londo, it's just Narn itself! For now, anyway. Really, Londo, you're the one who's daft."

Londo turned beseeching eyes to Emperor Cartagia, praying to the Great Maker that the young ruler would put a stop to this.

"Both of you have valid points. When word of Jha'dur's feats came to my predecessor, the Centauri people were suitably horrified and saddened. We have not done anything like this before. At least, officially, anyway. This...co...co...biogenic weapon will be too alien for anyone in our universe to identify as a biological weapon. All the other worlds would know is that the Narns were dying of a mysterious new disease. Didn't that happen to the Markab before they were cured of the Drafa Plague?" The Emperor shrugged. "Plagues appear now and then. There's no law governing that. When Drafa appeared among the Markab, it must have meant that the universe demands the extinction of an entire race as a sacrifice. If we do this, are we not placating the universe's thirst for such a sacrifice? By this, wouldn't we restore the universe's innate balance? Might we not divert that very thirst away from the Centauri people through this action? Remove the Narns from their homeworld and their disgusting resistance will end. Remove them and we will satisfy the universe's thirst. We can then terraform the planet and make it a Centauri colony!"

Refa was now beaming happily at the Imperial decision. Londo was not feeling good at all. It was most unfortunate that the Great Maker was cruel enough to harden the Emperor's hearts. He prayed the universe wouldn't take notice and let Centauri Prime burn for its sins.

Cartagia chuckled. "I have been waiting for a chance to build a new palace on that planet and rename the Narn homeworld. It is so confusing when someone says 'Narn' and we must wonder if he was speaking of the people or the planet." He winked happily at Londo. "How does 'Narnia' sound?"

xxxxxxxx

"_Great Maker! Is it really true? You...you're not making a very bad joke? A very bad, bad, bad, horribly bad joke?"_

Londo grimly shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not, Vir."

Vir was shaking his head as if he thought by moving fast enough, he could dodge the horrible truth. That truth indeed belonged with Morgoth, God of the Underworld. _"Great Maker. Great Maker! Great Maker! Is...? Great Maker!"_

"Stop saying 'Great Maker' and help me out here! Give me an idea, anything at all, to stop this!"

Vir was still shaking his head and muttering to himself.

"Vir!"

"_Sorry, Londo. I-I-I just can't...wrap my mind around this. I can't imagine this. Maybe I can, but to see it happening in real life? No! Not this. Just before you told me, I wondered about the mind that would be sick enough to invent Mass Drivers. Now I have to wonder_

_about the mind that would be sick enough to invent...what is it? Cobalt diselenide? Yes. I have to wonder about that mind..."_

"Vir!"

"_I-I... Oh no!"_ Vir's eyes widened and his face paled as a new thought occurred to him. _"Is...is this channel secure? No one will overhear us? Great Maker! And I was looking forward to growing old in peace! Maybe I should request asylum among the Minbari. I_

_think they like me enough to grant it. Maybe I should shoot myself and save the executioners—the assassins!—the trouble. Maybe I shoul—"_

"VIR!"

The Centauri ambassador to Minbar finally shut up.

"This channel is very secure. I made it so secure even the Vorlons would have a hard time cracking it. Now...any idea, hmmm?"

"_Beside telling everyone about it and hope for the best?"_

"Yes. Beside that. Especially beside that! Do that and Centauri Prime will burn. The death of our people will be on your head if your lips start flapping hard enough to make a wind."

Vir vigorously nodded for five full seconds, terrified. _"Okay. An idea to help stop this. Anything at all..."_ He became visibly nervous, eyes jumping. _"Ummm... Have-have you heard of Abrahamo Lincolni? Abrahamo Lincolni of the Department of Relocations?"_

Londo was taken aback, frowning. That name sounded too much like a certain famous Earth figure... Impossible. It had to be a coincidence. Like the coincidence of his own name: the city of London, the fictional character Lando Calrissian. And Vir's own name incredibly coincided with a word of the exact same spelling in one of Earth's languages, Latin: it means 'man'. Other examples abound in Known Space like the similarity of the name of House Maklood with Earth's Clan MacLeod. As hard as he could think, he

couldn't remember hearing of any House Lincolni. Probably a mere commoner in the Imperial bureaucracy. "I...can't say I do. What about the great Mr. Lincolni?"

Vir fidgeted for a while before speaking. _"Well, Mr. Lincolni, you see... You sure this channel is secure? Okay, okay. I only heard about this, of course, you see. He's ummm...he's involved with transporting Narns off their homeworld. The official word is that he's taking them to work at certain factories, at certain labor camps, but most of them, maybe all of them, died. The reality is, really, that they were smuggled out of Centauri space and released. Some went into the Resistance. Others just...umm...went their own way, I guess. I only heard about this, that's all."_

Londo couldn't feel remember feeling prouder of Vir than now. "Why, Vir, old friend! I didn't expect you to set up your own intelligence network! I've heard of Narns disappearing, of several transports being pirated of their slaves or disappearing and that was

all I could find out myself and through the eyes-and-ears of House Mollari. You've outdone

yourself, Vir! Will I bump into one of your spies? By accident, of course?"

"_Ummm... Maybe. When are they...releasing the...the weapon?"_

"_Just as soon as the ships carrying the cargo from the other universe come to Centauri Prime for inspection, then departs for Narn. Two weeks or so."_

"_Definitely not enough time for m—...Mr. Lincolni to forge the required documents and transport the Narn population. Of course, if he tried, he will be exposed and executed as a-a-a traitor. Then the operation will be interrupted. Aborted. Okay, ummm... How about_

_informing the Narn Resistance?"_

Londo rubbed his chin, thinking. "We could do that. Of course, we can't tell them about the bioweapon. They will just tell everyone and Centauri Prime will burn. Well then, all they will know is that the Centauri military was transporting an important envoy, a key official, maybe the Viceroy of Narn himself. Then they can send forces and blast the weapon ship to pieces. With the Xon-alikes helping, that can be done. Yes. Yes. I can see that working. You don't know how much this has lifted off of my mind!"

xxxxxxxx

The sun set on Imperial City. Londo was sitting on a bench in the Imperial Gardens, watching the sunset. It was heartening when he thought of the sun still rising on Centauri Prime. Yet, the sun also sets. Almost unbidden, a memory burst in his mind. A memory of the technomage Elric talking to Londo on Babylon 5.

"I see a hand reaching out of the stars. It is your hand. I hear the voice of billions of people calling your name."

"My followers?"

"Your victims..."

Londo sighed. He had already murdered millions by unleashing Mr. Morden's damned associates and starting the Narn-Centauri War. War of Retribution, hah! It was more like a massacre. If the scheme he had hatched with Vir to stop the murder of Narn failed, the blood of billions will be on his hands. Londo wondered how many of them were children. How many more children will die by his hand?

"They forgive you."

Londo nearly fell backward off the garden bench in shock at the voice.

Emperor Cartagia daintily spread the tails of his Imperial white gold-embroidered coat as he sat on the bench. Londo's hearts were still pounding, threatening a coronary.

"Sometimes I think everyone need to hear that. 'They forgive you.' For whatever reason." Cartagia turned to watch the sun dip down to the horizon. "It will be dark soon. First, there will be the false dusk, then the darkness of night. Funny how light is supposed to be bright but the light of dusk is dark."

"Yes, it is, Sire."

Cartagia faced Londo with bright eyes. "If you walk in the darkness far enough, you will hear voices. Farther, and you will hear the forgiveness of dead children. You see, when you go all the way into the shadows, there is no dark. When you go all the way into emptiness, you'll find it full."

Londo was feeling very uneasy.

"And if you fall far enough, Londo," Cartagia said, "I'll be there."

xxxxxxxx

Morden walked down a corridor of the Royal Palace. Of course, any servant that happened across his way wouldn't notice him at all. Thanks to his associates, he was either made invisible or the minds of others were adjusted so that Morden didn't visually register on them at all. To reassure himself, his ears strained to listen. The insectoidal chitter was still there. The two Shadows were still with him. Good.

He came upon a large wooden ornate double door. Two Royal Guardsmen flanked the door. They impassively stared straight ahead, almost never blinking as per their rigorous training. Also per that training, they should have immediately noticed Morden and questioned his presence in this part of the Palace.

They didn't, thanks to his associates. They didn't notice the door opening, either.

Morden went through the door, smiling. Cartagia was staring out the window into the dusk. The setting sun outlined the huge dome of the Great Hall of the Centaurum rising from the center of the city. Morden stood just behind the emperor's chair.

"My associates went through the Door."

Their eyes met in the windowpane.

Morden folded his arms and cleared his throat. "They have seen the other universe. The Federation have ships at the Door. They weren't intimidated by your ships as you said. So recall the ships. It would be easy. They will then be comfortable enough to talk to you. Then they will talk to me. No one's incorruptible. If we are lucky, we can use the Federation skillfully. We can defuse the situation and still bring the Centauri Republic to greater heights than ever dreamed of by the old god-emperors."

Cartagia reached out to the window and silently stroked Morden's reflected cheek.

"Listen to reason, Your Majesty. The Federation has issued an ultimatum: stop harassing their ships and clear out of the Door's area of space or they will consider actions outside of diplomatic channels. Your little probing game is over."

The imperial fingertips squeaked as they moved, leaving a contrail of condensation on the glass. Down Morden's chest, his belly, following the edges of his suit jacket to stop at his groin.

Cartagia's hand dropped. Outside, Imperial City's monumental buildings glittered. A shuttle, red light winking, sailed the purpling sky.

Morden said, "If you do not recall the ships, the Federation will want to deal with the Centauri Republic directly. I cannot guarantee my associates' protection in this matter."

Under the emperor's breath, an aura of moisture spread on the glass between Morden's reflected legs. Cartagia leaned over and pressed open lips on the spot.

A shudder went through Morden. He dropped his arms and stepped away. His reflection in the window faded. He kept smiling, though the smile now appeared more plastered on his face than sincere. His fingers itched to touch the pendant he wore and draw on the strength of the Shadows.

Cartagia spoke in a hushed voice. "When I have done all I can for your associates, will they help me attain the godhead? The old god-emperors were deified when they died. If I get deified in my lifetime, I can prove myself superior to the emperors of old. I can shine, bring light to my people. I have a new empress. With her, I can create a divine dynasty." He chuckled, remembering something about the Earthers. "We will be the living Holy Trinity. Will they help me? Dark, so dark here." Abruptly, Cartagia turned to look at Morden full in the face. "Sometimes, I don't know where I am."

"I...understand." Morden really did understand Cartagia. After losing his wife and daughter to that terrorist bombing at Io, he felt the emptiness, the darkness and the loneliness. To escape that, he threw himself into his work as an archaeolinguist and a xenoarchaeologist. How fortunate it was that he got on the Icarus and met his salvation on Z'ha'dum! He remembered the ecstasy of rebirth in the Abyss.

Perhaps he could give the Centauri emperor a little bit of what he had before going to Mars. Bring him a little closer to his obsession with the godhead. Only to keep Cartagia a little sane for a little longer to achieve the plans made by his associates and the Great Lord of the Dark.

A chitter came from one of the Shadows, signalling its permission. Morden fingered his pendant, drawing on the strength of the Shadows and reached for Cartagia with his free hand.

Cartagia's eyes widened in alarm. Morden's fingertips touched the emperor's forehead. The emperor gasped as something appeared to burn, to sear into his forehead, to be drawn on it with fire. The pain was such that he couldn't give voice to it. Morden's fingers withdrew.

Cartagia quickly turned to look at a gilt-framed mirror across the room. He felt his forehead. He couldn't feel anything different about it, nor could he see it in the mirror. But the burning feeling was still there, if fading.

Morden's smile became sincere, even fraternal. "You have been marked. No one will see it, but it will keep the servants of the Shadows from trying to kill you. Your Majesty, you have been blessed with the Great Lord's touch."

Cartagia's smile widened, reciprocating Morden's, and his eyes shone with gratitude.

**Mars**

In his mind, James T. Kirk built a wall. Behind it, he placed his intimate knowledge of Starfleet. It was a high wall, built of everything he could imagine—boulders, bricks, tree trunks, a Preserver obelisk, shuttles, glittering pieces of glass, the bodies of the dead ensigns killed in away missions, furniture. The wall stretched far like the Great Barrier or the Great Wall of China, and crackled with the energy of the Great Barrier. As he built it, he forgot a bit about laughter and crying. In the construction of the wall, he surveyed which memory to put under guard. He hesitated over the memories.

_Edith Keeler._

_Edith...a warm face, compassionate eyes._

_And love. His arms went around Edith but he knew he was saying goodbye._

_His eyes scanned the night sky of a filthy city on Old Earth. Edith or the stars...Edith or the Federation. Captain's decision...command decision. It hurted. The ghost of Edith slipped away, leaving his arms empty._

_Miramanee...priestess of a forgotten race. Miramanee...wife. Miramanee...mother of his unborn child. Peace here...except for the dreams and the faces in them. One dark and angular. One blue-eyed and curious. His eyes searched the face of the Indian mortal goddess. Gentle, beautiful wife-for-a-season._

_Miramanee stepped aside._

_Other faces...some forgotten, some well-remembered. Antonia, Carol Marcus, Queen Deela, Gillian Taylor, Ruth, Areel Shaw, Elaan of Troyius, Janice Lester, Ilia, Marlena Moreau, Lenore Karidian, Rayna_ (Forget the pain, Jim. Forget.)

_Warm, dark eyes entered his mind._

Spock?

_The single syllable echoed in his mind. Blood-brother among the stars. The other half of the whole. The other part of the Trinity. The only other person the Enterprise would accept in his life. T'hy'la._

He decided to put the memory of Spock and the semi-telepathic bond with the Vulcan behind the Great Wall of Kirk. With it, he put the Conspiracy of Light. In front of the wall, he patrolled. No one may pass and go beyond the wall. Everything else, they could have. Let them bring their telepathic PsiCops. Let them rage against the wall which would only harden from the reservoir of strength he knew he could draw from his Vulcan friend and his experience with Vulcan minds.

xxxxxxxx

Time crawled on all fours, broken. The pain in his hand was making him feverish, making him hallucinate. A dog ground his fingers between its jaws. Kirk closed his eyes and wondered when it would end. The interrogations, he hated to admit, was wearing him down, forcing him to forget what it was like to laugh or even to cry. The disgusting gratefulness for the gentle kindness of the business-suited interrogator and the infinite white-hot pain with the EarthForce torturer. Alone in the cell, he was tugged one way by

exhaustion, the other way by the dog.

He dreamed.

Tarsus IV. His first encounter with the harsh reality of the universe's cruelty. He watched as Kodos the Executioner had the colony militia aim phased-laser rifles at the back of Federation colonists. One of them, the famous and very old Hoshi Sato, turned her face to smile reassuringly and sadly to the 13-years-old Kirk. Red light flashed in the dying evening and bodies tumbled into the huge pit dug out of the planet's surface. As officers of the colonial militia grimly tossed torches into the gas-drenched pit, Kirk was mildly surprised to see the faces of the executed colonists replaced with the faces of his human tormentors. Khan Noonian Singh. Morgan Clark. Laurel Takashima. Sergeant Major Plug. Kalina Reikson. General Richard Franklin. Melting in the roaring fire.

The beseechingly haunting dark eyes of Yeoman Leslie Thompson just before the Kelvans turned her into an inanimate dehydrated crystalline tetrahedron and crushed her-it into dust. Oddly, the callous Kelvans wore the faces of Clark, the gentle interrogator, the torturer and Laurel Takashima.

Deneva Colony. Kirk mourned as interstellar parasites murdered colonists and his family. His brother and his brother's wife were struck down in the parasitic attack. Only his nephew, Peter Kirk, was all that was left of the Kirk family beside himself. He vowed to

make the galaxy safe for people like Peter Kirk to live in and to enjoy.

Mr. Finney's daughter, Jamie, screeching her hatred at Kirk, accusing him of murdering her father. Incongruously, her eyes were the slanted eyes of Laurel Takashima.

Khan Noonian Singh. The Augment ran through the corridors of the Enterprise, leading EarthForce marines.

Organia. Kirk standing with Spock on the planet, receiving the message from the Enterprise that Starfleet Command had broadcast Code One, the declaration of war. He looked up at the Organian sky, knowing that soon beyond it, Federation starships would create a deadly dance with enemy warships.

Dr. Daystrom's M-5 Multitronic Unit driving the Enterprise into savagely attacking other starships. Instead of beseeching the M-5 unit to stop, Kirk watched with glee as each Earth and Centauri ship died under his starship's fire. Each fiery death eased the pain of cruelty.

The fiery deaths shining from his main viewscreen became the fiery transformation of a barren planet into an Eden. Genesis. The hope of life and happiness in the Federation. False hope. Genesis proved to be Death for Spock and his son, David Marcus, and the Genesis Planet blew itself apart, reminding all that Eden is still forever forbidden to humans. From within the mini-nova, a shriek tore the dark heavens. A Shadow scream announcing the birth of something. Something even darker than the mind that would use Genesis as a weapon of mass destruction...

The jailer shook him awake.

"Stand up!"

Kirk was curled up tightly on his side like a fetus. His body felt raw, his joints welded. The guard's push woke the dog of pain and he sicked up. There was nothing to bring up but his stomach convulsed anyway. The cell disappeared then came rushing back. He was pulled upright and the guard brought out a pair of handcuffs. Next to him stood the gentle interrogator.

Thank goodness. Not the torturer. Kirk was once more disgusted at himself for feeling grateful.

His hand started to throb again. He looked down and saw crimson spots soaking through the white gauze.

The interrogator looked at him with distaste and said to the guard, "You better put them on at the front."

Kirk's wrists were once more locked. He was marched along the passage, up some stairs, the monotonous concrete walls passing by. If not for the light gravity of this planet, wherever here was, he would have stumbled and fallen many times over. He could still hear the scream from the end of his dream, but it throbbed from a distance. He glanced at his

captors. Judging by their grim expressions, they didn't appear to hear the shrieks. More corridors.

The interrogator gave him only a short look. But it was enough for Kirk to see that his questioner was afraid. Afraid of what?

He realized that the screams came from alarms wailing throughout the place. What was happening?

He looked down, watching his feet move across the concrete floor. His bandaged hand. The specks of red were spreading, touching, forming archipelagoes of blood.

He blinked when he came out of a door in a building. The faint stars of night shone through the huge glass dome above. The dome came down to a concrete edge almost right in front of him. Above the concrete wall holding the dome, he could see mountains tinted dark red in the starlight. Two tiny distorted moons shone.

He was on Mars after all.

He noticed what appeared to be a maglev train car waiting, hiding a tunnel entrance in the dome's edge. The interrogator and the two guards pushed him into a seat in the carriage. The interrogator got in with him and nodded at the guards. "Syria Planum. The teeps will know what to do."

As the bolts sealed the door of the carriage, Kirk felt a flicker of irrational relief.

"Don't raise your hopes," said the interrogator. "PsiCorps has a private spaceport at Syria Planum."

Kirk turned away and watched the red desert vista of Mars blur by as the maglev carriage rushed through a tunnel of glass faster than the speed of sound. He looked up at the stars. He wondered if he would travel among it anymore. That bright blue unblinking star. Earth. Noticing something, he squinted. Tiny flashes of colored light occasionally competed with the stars in the Martian night sky. A space battle?

He ducked when two aerodynamically designed starfuries roared above the glass tunnel. He watched as they flew to the horizon, noticing a thin wispy column of smoke rising from beyond the horizon, blotting out some of the stars.

Signs of war. How appropriate for a planet named after the Roman god of war.

He remembered what the interrogator said. PsiCorps. That meant PsiCops. Telepaths digging into his mind. He stretched out in his seat and rested his head on the back of the seat, making sure that the wall in his mind stood high and strong. The interrogator suddenly

leaned toward him and shouted, "Oh for fuck's sake! He's pissing himself!"

He slapped Kirk, forcing him to be more awake and to assert more self-control on himself. The business-suited man hissed, "Mars is going to hell and I have to put up with this."

The carriage rolled through another dark entrance in a concrete wall. Another glass dome rose from the concrete wall. Syria Planum. PsiCorps.

"Open the doors!"

It was empty in the maglev station. As far as Kirk could tell, Syria Planum was empty. The interrogator got out and yanked Kirk out. The interrogator's fear was now out in the open. "Quick! We haven't got all night!" To the guards in the maglev carriage: "One minute, then we're outta here!"

Then Kirk was busy being pushed forward, stumbling across the station's marble floor, down a wide corridor and out of a wide doorway. The interrogator unlocked the handcuffs and took the paingiver collar off of Kirk's neck.

"You're a lucky man, James."

"I don't understand..."

The long face creased in exasperation. "You're someone's favorite." The interrogator stepped back into the entrance of the maglev station, turned and ran off into the darkness.

Kirk frowned, confused. Was he dreaming? Or was this a trick designed to ingratiate him to the PsiCops that would surely appear to take him into yet another interview room? He looked up at the glass dome, expecting to see stars and the distance-tiny space battle raging in orbit. He was disappointed to see the glass frosted to give the place privacy. A noise

distracted him.

There. The dark silhouette of a man walking across the street. His rescuer? A PsiCop? His executioner? Kirk hesitated, started to walk, and stopped, expecting the flash of phased plasma at any moment. The shadow of the man was now close enough for him to see the

features.

Unfamiliar human features. Handsome features with a smile. An immaculate dark business suit with a pendant hung from the neck, seeming to draw the light into its own darkness. What almost sounded like the chitter of large insects reached Kirk's ear. The light of Mars'

two moons filtering through the frosted glass dome lit up the perfect white teeth in the stranger's smile.

"Hello, Captain Kirk,"


	25. Thin Ice

_Rich: The scene of troops attacking the Palace of Nations or of Palpatine's troops attacking the Jedi Temple is a very common scene in human history. One of the most recent is that of President Boris Yeltsin's troops attacking the Russian Parliament after the president's order of dissolving the parliament._

_grayangle: I've peppered most of my chapters with nods and references to other stories. Have fun looking for them! ;)_

_Agent-G: Originally, the Constitution-refit ship was supposed to have a saucer separation in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. It was to fit Kirk's statement of saucer separation in one of the TOS episodes. Even though the separation didn't make the movie, the producers have left a red line at where the ship's neck meets the saucer. Look at it closely and you'll see it._

_Yes, the Stargate and Dune stuff is a bit left field. The B5 universe, to me, has plenty of room for references to other stories. For fun, I speculated that there was a Dune civilization belonging to the Ancients/Preservers in the distant past. It will play a role, if small, in later chapters._

_I'll tell you this: the Enterprise-B is at this time still under construction. There will be a role for it later on._

* * *

"Remember, democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes, exhausts and murders itself. There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide." –John Adams, political philosopher and second President of the United States, 1790-1801 CE, Earth

Julie Musante picked up and examined an open black velvet box. "You have some very impressive objects here, Captain. EarthForce Silver Star for Valor in the Minbari War, commendations, your orders of promotion. Except for the Seal of the Earth Alliance, I really don't see much that gives a sense of walking into the heart of the Earth Government on Babylon 5."

Captain John Sheridan took a moment to form a response. He took back the display box containing the Silver Star and said, "It's, uh, nice of you to do your job as a political officer. But I don't need one."

"Oh, but EarthDome disagrees!" Julie took a seat on the office couch. "Things are very...touchy back home, Captain. In light of the new order taking shape in Earth Central, I'm here to help you make decisions that are more politically astute than they have been recently."

"Now just a minute! I don't—"

Julie smiled at Sheridan who was looking offended. She said with wide innocent eyes, "I'm only repeating what I've been told. No need to kill the messenger!" She patted the empty seat next to her. Sheridan knew he was walking a tightrope with EarthGov, so he sat in the couch with her. She slid close to him and continued in a confidential manner, "Your decisions might have been correct—on some level, but there are ways of doing things so that they reflect more favorably on the Earth Government. And so it was decided that you needed a political officer. Someone who could whisper in your ear, who could warn you about government policies that you might bump into. Someone who could keep you from making mistakes that might jeopardize your career back home."

Throughout Julie's speech, her body language was that of a woman showing her interest in a man at a bar.

Sheridan might have been without a woman for a long time ever since his wife, Anna Sheridan, went on the ill-fated Icarus mission. He stood up quickly. "Get this straight, Ms. Musante! This is my command! My position as military governor is guaranteed under the charter of the Babylon Project!"

"Yes, I've read it. It does not exclude the presence of a political officer. But perhaps you could show me the paragraph that I missed."

Sheridan got angry. The woman slipped into insolence too easily! "This is a military outpost!"

"Which answers to a civilian government. Decisions made by military officers must reflect current government policies. The President proposes and the military disposes." Julie quickly put on a look of good-humored false shocked surprise. "Unless there's been a coup and no one told me!"

The captain had to take a deep breath to keep himself from blowing up at Julie. "The President invested me with sole authority here. Unless I received orders to the contrary, I refuse to share that authority with an unqualified civilian!"

Julie now stood up, angry. "And no one is asking you to! I am simply here to advise!" She calmed down and spoke with a controlled voice. "Captain, the decision's already been made. There's nothing we can do about it. So I suggest that we do what we can to live with it amicably. For starters—"

Commander Susan Ivanova walked into the captain's office. "Sorry, Ms. Musante. There's a call for you, Captain. It's from EarthDome."

A delighted smile quickly appeared on Julie's face. "Perfect timing! I think that will be the orders you need to ease your conscience." She shook the captain's hand amicably. "I must go. Believe me when I say that I sincerely want to help you."

As the blonde left his office, Ivanova threw a quizzical look at Sheridan. "Is there a problem, Captain?"

He shrugged and chuckled bitterly. "I need a glass of whiskey, a gun and two bullets."

The station's executive officer gave her captain a wry look. "Understood. Anytime you want, I'll arrange a Russian Roulette for her."

Sheridan chuckled, cheered a bit, and turned, straightening his uniform, while the commander went to the vidscreen to input orders to relay the call from EarthDome.

On the vidscreen, a general came on. Sheridan recognized Lieutenant General O'Reilly.

"General O'Reilly."

"_Captain Sheridan. I don't have a lot of time here. Things are out of control down here, Captain. We don't know what the hell's going on!"_

Sheridan and Ivanova shared another look, puzzled and confused. The call wasn't about Julie Musante, after all. "What about the Senate? Can't they do something?"

"_Clark just issued an Executive Order_ dissolving _the Senate! Half of them are on the run now! A bunch more have been arrested! The rest are holed up in their offices, refusing to leave! They're calling in every favor they can, John, trying to get support from the military under the Constitution. But it doesn't look good."_

"Oh, my God!" breathed Ivanova. It sounded too much like her history lessons in school: President Boris Yeltsin moving against the Russian Duma.

"Where's General Hague?" Sheridan asked anxiously.

"_He was on his way back from the clean-up at Jupiter when all hell broke loose! Nobody's heard from him since Monday. He—"_ The flash and noise of explosions

came through the general's office window. O'Reilly's face blanched. _"Oh no!"_ He pressed a button on his desk and monitors behind him came alive, showing soldiers in a street firefight. _"The Elite Guard just opened fire on the Senate! I have to go! I just wanted you to know... General Hague's last communiqué had a message for you. He said, 'Everything's gone to hell, John. God help us all! You're on your own!'"_ General

O'Reilly now appeared to want to run out of his chair, but he leaned forward and whispered, _"That woman you've just met...don't trust her! When you talk to her, you're talking to the President himself!"_ The general jumped from his chair and ran off.

Sheridan and Ivanova looked at each other in shock.

xxxxxxxx

The noise of uniformed men and women wearing the NightWatch armband subsided when Julie Musante entered the conference center. She appeared to be a friendly university professor who had arrived for her lecture. She began.

"As some of you may know, I am Julie Musante. I have been assigned here by the Ministry of Peace, NightWatch Division, under the direct authority of the Earth Alliance President himself. The Ministry is proud of what you all have done for the Earth Alliance. You all have been doing your bit to keep our people safe. However, certain changes are being implemented. Not just for Babylon 5, but for the whole Alliance."

The political officer allowed a buzz of excitement going through the room before continuing.

"It will be inappropriate for EarthForce personnel to publicly criticize the government or its decisions. Violations of this will result in immediate fines and penalties."

A voice called out, "What about civilians?"

"Well, that's not something you need to worry about. Just take down the information and pass it along. We'll take it from there. The new policies also expand the range of investigation to include past associations, families, and friends who might draw others into situations that may be compromising not only for them, but for all of humanity... Is there a problem, Sergeant Allan?"

Zack Allan had been squirming uncomfortably in his seat toward the end of Julie's answer. "Well, yeah! Babylon 5 Security is supposed to act according to the rules of due process."

"When enforcing criminal law, that's correct. But you are now an arm of the Political Office, and that widens the scope of your authority. You are empowered to examine station publications to ensure that they are ideologically correct for humanity. We've revised the rules of evidence to make them more flexible."

"You keep saying 'humanity.' Do our powers include...the other humans? You know, the ones who say they're members of a Federation Starfleet."

Julie looked delighted as if Zack Allan had suddenly become her star student. "They are humans, therefore they came from Earth. Yes, they claimed to be from an Earth in another universe. Do they have any way to go back there? It is our duty to offer our own Earth as a home for these lost humans. Of course, they will need...an education in order to make their integration into our society smooth. That is part of your job as well."

Even though Julie didn't say it out right, the words 're-education camps' hung in the air. A guard, looking very uncomfortable, said, "Isn't all this a little...extreme?"

"Yes," said Julie, showing herself to be a honest Earther concerned with the solidarity of Earthers. She began to pace. "Yes, it is. I shouldn't be telling you this yet, but in the coming months, certain individuals will be purged from their government positions on charges of sedition, immoral conduct, even spying for alien governments! With our basic freedoms at stake, no response can be too extreme. The President's current martial law was one such extreme response, a response that saved our mother world from attack by aliens. Without it, these aliens, called the Borg, would have brought the horrors of the Line back to Earth or worse! The martial law in Earth Central and some other minor and temporary abridgements in the traditionally protected areas of speech and association, are temporary but only until this crisis is over!" Julie Musante paced past some posters reminiscent of the 'Soviet realism' of the 1930's. "We have been betrayed on nearly every level! Somehow, the Borg knew exactly where to go! We don't know who told them, exactly, but we have discovered an alien spy-ship. All I can say is that its design is very similar to other ships of those who call themselves 'Federationers.'"

Gasps of shock and surprise rippled through the audience.

"That is why it is going to take the efforts of every loyal citizen to keep Earth safe and ideologically pure!"

xxxxxxxx

Sheridan and Ivanova strode hurriedly into the C&C dome. They were momentarily surprised to see Julie Musante coming out of the transport tube and joining them. Sheridan silently took it in stride and began speaking even as he walked through the door into C&C.

"By now, you've all heard the news. In response to the Borg attack at the Sol System, President Clark has declared martial law back home. In case of further attacks, the President is extending his decree of martial law, and ordered Mars and Io to enact similar extensions. Now, they haven't hit us yet, but you can be sure that order will come soon."

Ivanova said, "All communications to Earth have been blacked out since 0800 this morning. Only the Gold Channels are still functioning, but those are to be used for official military business only."

The crew listened gloomily while Julie Musante nodded slightly to each point, as if she gave Sheridan and Ivanova a script to read out.

"I know many of you have family back on Earth," said Sheridan. "We're doing everything we can to find out what's going on. Meanwhile, I ask you to stay at your posts and continue as if everything is status quo. We've got a lot of nervous people here, and I need every one of you to help calm things down."

Ivanova stole a frown at Julie. "It's possible that some of the other governments may take this as an opportunity to move against us, so we must maintain combat readiness. Continue the fly-by's. I want at least one squadron on patrol outside the station at all times."

"Any questions?"

Lieutenant David Corwin was shaken by the news. "Captain, how did this happen? What did we do wrong?"

Sheridan glanced at both Ivanova and Julie. Ivanova was looking grimly impassive, while the political officer nodded her encouragement. The captain couldn't risk saying anything that would expose the Conspiracy, anything that would have him called before an inquiry either on Babylon 5 or even back at Earth Central. He again thought of Kirk on Mars. He wondered if Julie Musante would be a key witness in that inquiry. He was taking too long to answer Corwin.

Julie stepped in. "We didn't do anything wrong, Mr. Corwin. Not when it was aliens who attacked us, not when it was aliens who forced the martial law issue. The captain and the commander here suggested heightened vigilance. That is the right response to the crisis at hand. Remember, it was one of our esteemed ancestors, Thomas Jefferson, who said, 'Vigilance is the price of freedom.' All of us are only participating in the tried and true methods of keeping our people, our families and friends safe..."

As Julie droned on, Sheridan and Ivanova shared a long look, careful not to betray any thought.

xxxxxxx

Michael Garibaldi came down the corridor outside C&C. "Hey, there you are. Did you hear the latest?"

Sheridan looked over his shoulder to see Julie Musante through the tiny port-window in the door. She was still 'inspiring' the crew. "No, what?"

"They just put out a nine-system alert for General Hague. Now, the word is he's trying to organize a counterstrike. If he can get enough big ships to sign on, he can go toe-to-toe with President Clark."

Sheridan and Ivanova were amazed. A military coup in response to the President's own internal EarthGov coup! The Russian woman blurted, "They'll never allow that! They'll throw everything they've got at him!"

"He's been our contact from the start!" said Sheridan. "They get him, they get us! A lot of ships were called to Jupiter to deal with the Borg. Many are still there. If enough of them go over to Hague's side...but many would stay at Clark's side. We could have another shooting war at Jupiter!"

The nearby transport tube opened and Ambassador Miranda Jones came out.

Garibaldi frowned. "Ambassador, we're having a private meeting going on over here."

Miranda coolly looked at Garibaldi. "Yes, I know. It's a good thing your PsiCorps doesn't have any telepath nearby. Your thoughts are leaking all over the place. I could hear them all the way from my quarters."

The Earthers were taken aback. Even though Miranda was an ally, their nervousness about powerful telepaths extended to her. If she wasn't exaggerating, she could possibly be stronger than even a PsiCop.

Ivanova doubted it, though. She couldn't imagine any PsiCop being bested by another human telepath. PsiCops were ever bested only a very few times: once by Jason Ironheart, and that was when he was 'evolving' into a higher state of being, and again by Talia Winters when she linked with other telepaths of the Underground Railroad. The thought of Talia pained her, and she glared at Miranda for bringing the memory up. "What is it? If it's something important, we can talk later."

Miranda then shifted her cool gaze to Ivanova, causing a chill to go up the Russian's spine. She knew that the Federation ambassador's blindness was sidestepped by her jeweled sensor net, but it just wasn't natural for a totally blind person to look at her so clearly and sharply.

"It is something important. It concerns your General Hague."

"Go on...," said Sheridan, his curiosity piqued.

"The general have sent an encrypted message to me, asking for assistance from the Federation. Of course, Starfleet is not in the business of stepping into someone else's affairs. I would—"

Sheridan raised his hands to stop the ambassador. "We appreciate that, but we'd prefer to keep this thing to ourselves. Any outside involvement will only confirm what Clark's been saying all along: aliens are corrupting humans." Disgust showed his opinion of that.

"Of course, Captain. I was about to say that I would have given you some small help, but the Starfleet Judge Advocate General's representative was with me when General Hague's call came through. I was forced to refuse and to relay his request to Starfleet Command through Captain Shaw. If, however, the general comes either here or to the Quantum Gate and request asylum, it will be a different story."

Garibaldi shook his head. "This is bad."

"Yeah," said Sheridan. "I've never seen it any worse!"

**ISN**

"_...with continued reports of heavy fighting outside the occupied Senate. Meanwhile, President Clark has offered amnesty to anyone willing to surrender. Senator Borishevsky of the Russian Consortium is urging citizens to surround the Senate in a living barrier..."_

**Babylon 5**

Ambassador Miranda Jones stepped into the transport tube and ordered the computer to take her to the diplomatic quarters. Her exterior spoke of calm. Inside, she was angry. Areel Shaw interfered in her work to patch things up with the Earth Alliance. The idiocy of the Earth Alliance president was interfering in her work with the InterStellar Alliance.

She had thought of putting her work on hold upon the reappearance of the Federation, but with the Shadows roaming this galaxy, forging a new federation in this universe was still important.

The tube car stopped and the door opened. It was Julie Musante of Earth's so-called Ministry of Peace.

"Ms. Jones."

Miranda arched an eyebrow. The omission of her diplomatic title spoke volumes of the Earth woman's opinion of her. She obliged with her own reciprocation. "Ms. Musante."

The two women silently stared at the door as the tube car moved through Babylon 5. Miranda decided to try and reach out to the Earth Alliance. "Ms. Musante."

The blonde turned to Miranda with barely disguised distaste. "Hmm?"

"Ms. Musante, as you may know, I am the ambassador for the United Federation of Planets. I know that the Earth Alliance doesn't really like us. It was not our intention to be offensive. It is actually our goal to make peace with everyone we meet."

"It is a little late for that, isn't it? Spying on us and doing nothing while the Borg destroy our ships!"

Miranda frowned at Julie. The Earther was being vindictive. "Ms. Musante, please! We were not 'doing nothing.' Our ship managed to destroy the Borg, did it not?"

"After the enemy ship was already damaged by another battle."

It was going to be difficult to reach Julie, Miranda could see. "That is true. The Federation is prepared to make reparations and help you recover. We are prepared to do that in spite of the fact you are holding one of our citizens in custody."

"What citizen? I am not aware of any of your people being held." A smirk on Julie's face said otherwise. "What Federation? All you have is just two ships here, with another destroyed at Jupiter. You are not a government. You are separatists, pirates, mercenaries!"

"Before, we were just two ships. Now a third ship sits outside this station. Does that not tell you that the Federation exists?"

"That tiny ship?" Julie made a dismissive sound. "It could be easily built at some alien world around here."

"I assure you that the Federation exists. There is a way open to the Federation universe—"

"More like the services of the Vree!"

Miranda was now trying hard to be patient with this petulant woman. "Ms. Musante! Please! Whether you believe the Federation exists or not, we are still prepared to negotiate for Captain Kirk's release in exchange for help to search for salvaging efforts at Wolf 359 and Jupiter, and in exchange for peace between our two peoples."

Julie's smile became a sneer. "More attempts at spying? At destabilizing the Earth Alliance? What you're telling me is that your precious Federation is afraid of what EarthForce could do! Mark my words, Ms. Jones, EarthForce will stop your piracy, free your humans and bring them home. The aliens on your ships will be punished for enslaving the humans. You are a telepath, right? You must then know that it is inevitable for you to work for PsiCorps, the only proper place for telepaths to function in human society. Refuse and you won't be a telepath anymore." Julie turned back to look at the door. "Even if you bring in the other alien worlds on your behalf, your 'Federation' is going down."

What childish and dangerous behavior! Miranda's anger was such that she couldn't resist a small telepathic strike. She gently reached into Julie's mind and made the equivalent of fingers snapping. Julie put up her fingers to her temple, feeling a sudden mild headache. It was well deserved, Miranda thought, especially for a grown woman who couldn't act like the adult she was. "At this time, it is suicide, murder, and will lose you every friend in Known Space if you move against us. You will wantonly strike a hornet's nest. Fleets now quiet will swarm out and sting you. It is unnecessary; it puts you in the wrong; it is fatal, Ms. Musante!"

The tube car slowed as it neared its destination. Face contorted by anger and the mild headache, Julie turned to face the Federation ambassador fully. She spoke through gritted teeth. "Ms. Jones, you are not walking on thin ice. You're trying to walk on water! I'll drown you!"

The tube door opened. Julie, fists clenched at her sides, stalked out of the tube. Miranda stared at the Earther's back, not quite believing her obstinacy. A NightWatch propaganda poster on a corridor wall attracted her attention just before the tube door closed. Miranda sensor net showed the poster's image to be that of a little man being gripped by a giant hand, with Earth in the background. Huge letters proclaimed, TRAITORS CAN'T HIDE!

xxxxxxxx

The Judge Advocate General representative didn't like what she was hearing. "Thank you, Ambassador." Miranda Jones had just described her encounter with the Babylon 5 political officer, Julie Musante. Captain Areel Shaw looked over the officers of the Excelsior and the late Enterprise. The Earth space station revolved centrifugally outside through a large window in the main conference lounge on Captain Sulu's starship. "This is another reason for confining all Starfleet officers from the Enterprise to quarters. The Excelsior doesn't have enough room for everyone, so I'm putting them on Babylon 5."

"And Captain Sheridan agreed?" said McCoy skeptically.

"Yes," answered Miranda Jones. "The captain was kind enough to provide guest quarters for us at a discount."

"I thought Earth hates us?"

The ambassador had to answer delicately. "Well... The captain has...figured out a way to have the Earth government pay for his command staff's boarding. He has extended the courtesy to us. Hence the discount."

The doctor barked a laugh. "I'm betting that the Earth government doesn't know this! The more I learn of Sheridan, the more he seems like Kirk in the old days!"

Small smiles went around the room.

"Now if we will begin...," said Areel. She went to input orders into a panel beside a viewscreen. The screen brightened to show a three-dimensional schematic of the Solar System. Three lines curved and penetrated into the system from different directions, each ending in a Starfleet delta symbol. A fourth and thin line went straight into the system. The symbols were aimed at the fourth planet in the system. "The Federation does not take kindly to having its citizens, especially one so esteemed like Captain Kirk, abducted."

A scoff came from Dr. McCoy. He remembered the Federation letting Kirk and himself be held on Qo'noS for trial, then sent off to prison on Rura Penthe. Areel Shaw ignored him and went on.

"Starfleet Command has adapted the plans made by the late Colonel West to present conditions based on the increasing hostility between the Earth Alliance and the Federation." Areel pointed at the paths that starships would take into the Sol System. "With this plan, code-named 'Operation Retrieve,' we can go in and rescue the hostage and be out in 24 hours with an acceptable rate of loss in manpower and equipment. We have the technology to do it quickly and the Earth Alliance cannot hope to stop us. Here, we have—"

"Suppose this cockamamie plan of yours start a full scale war?" interrupted McCoy. Sulu nodded their agreement with the doctor's question.

Areel's smile didn't have any humor in it. "Then, quite frankly, Doctor, we can clean their chronometers."

Spock said, "The Earth Alliance is vulnerable. It has yet to recover from the Borg incursion and its president is precipitating a breakdown in his government structure. There won't be a more opportune time."

"Et tu, Spock!" McCoy was horrified. "Jim is my friend, but to risk a full scale war with another human power?"

"The longer we wait, the less accessible Captain Kirk will be, Doctor. I do not need to remind you of the knowledge that EarthForce could take from the captain's mind."

The doctor threw up his hands in exasperation. "All right, Spock!"

Captain Sulu leaned forward to see the list of starships assigned to the operation on the viewscreen.

USS Ahwahnee NCC-2048 Constellation-class

USS Archer NCC-2076 Centaur-class

"Centaur-class? I don't think I know that one."

"You were gone a long time," said Areel. "It's a new starship class designed to complement the Excelsior-class ships in Starfleet. It has just the saucer section and the warp nacelles with pylons—an evolution of the Miranda and Soyuz classes, if you will. The plan at Starfleet Command was that more such smaller starships would fill the void left by the dismantling of bases and the mothballing of heavy cruisers along the Klingon border."

"Oh yes. The Khitomer Accords, of course," said Sulu.

"Yes. However, the plans have changed. We're still dismantling the outposts along the Klingon border, of course. But we are keeping the starbases and we have decided not to mothball the heavy cruisers. Instead, we are assigning other duties for the ships in other areas of the Federation."

"Why?" asked McCoy. "Isn't that a violation of the Khitomer Accords?"

Areel gave a short blunt answer: "The Borg."

McCoy nodded as he mentally kicked himself. Of course! The existence of such a powerful and dangerous alien threat like the Borg would have been a wakeup call for the Federation. The Borg had defeated a combined Klingon-Federation fleet at Klach D'Kel Bracht, the area of space that was also called the Briar Patch in Federation charts. Naturally, the Klingons, concerned about their still shaky empire, would have agreed to modifications in the Khitomer Accords.

Sulu continued to study the list of starships for Operation Retrieve.

USS Challenger NCC-2032 Constitution-class (refit)

USS Eagle NCC-1956 Soyuz-class

USS Endeavour NCC-1895 Constitution-class (refit)

USS Excelsior NCC-2000 Excelsior-class

USS Potemkin NCC-1657 Constitution-class (refit)

USS Saratoga NCC-1867 Miranda-class

USS Scovil NCC-1598 Akyazi-class Perimeter Action Ship

USS Springfield NCC-1936 Oberth-class

"Ten starships. Four of them are of the heavy cruiser classes. All that for one man. Isn't that..." Sulu frowned to emphasize his point. "...overkill?"

"Yes," agreed Areel. "But remember, Captain Sulu, EarthForce still have many ships in the Sol System left over from the battle with the Borg at Jupiter. We cannot take any chances though we clearly have a technological edge over them." The JAG officer pointed at the thin fourth line on the operation's schematic. "This is the Springfield's course. By special order of Starfleet Command, she is equipped with a cloaking device. Before entering the system, the Springfield will cloak and scout ahead of the task force to take sensor readings of the area. It will continue to relay detailed readings to you as you go to Mars." Her finger then gestured at the other three thicker curving lines. "The remaining ships will be divided into groupings of three starships. The division of the task force will be at your discretion, Captain Sulu."

"Okay." But Sulu appeared to have doubts about the operation. "When do I go, Captain Shaw?"

"Actually, the task force will meet with us here at Babylon 5. It would be much quicker, not to mention closer."

"But...won't the Earth Alliance find out about the task force that way?"

Ambassador Jones fielded Sulu's question this time. "I have found out that as of 0800 this morning, all communications with the Earth government and military command are offline. Babylon 5 now only has the highly selective official frequencies called 'Gold Channels.' I know that Captain Sheridan and his command staff won't be inclined to inform EarthForce about the fleet. As long as they don't know about the fleet's objective, of course."

"Which means, gentlemen," said Areel, "you are hereby ordered not disclose anything about Operation Retrieve to Babylon 5 personnel. Or anyone else, for that matter. For this operation to succeed without loss of lives, there must be absolute secrecy. This order comes directly from the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet, Fleet Admiral Toddman himself."

Grim silence reigned until McCoy looked at the Excelsior's captain. "Sulu, I don't envy you."

"Neither do I," said Spock.

All Sulu could do at the moment was stare at the screen.

xxxxxxxx

Julie Musante appeared in the captain's office. She was pleased to see all four of Babylon 5's command officers waiting there. "I'm glad to see that efficiency is not limited to Earth Central!"

"Ms. Musante," said Sheridan patiently, "What is this about? If we are to keep our 'efficiency,' we have work to do!"

"Of course, Captain. That's what I'm here for, isn't it? After all, I am your political officer." She consulted her watch. "Speaking of which, I cannot stay. I have my own work to do."

"I thought we have a meeting?"

"Yes. Just...not with me. You have a call coming from Earth Central soon. General Smits, I believe. I have my own meeting with NightWatch."

Garibaldi and Ivanova narrowed their eyes in suspicion, while Dr. Franklin watched Sheridan's expression for cues. With martial law at the Sol System and a nine-system alert, this was a very dangerous game to play, especially with Julie being, for all purposes, President Clark himself.

The BabCom bleeped for attention. "That's my cue," said Julie. "I must go. The general is waiting for you, Captain Sheridan."

xxxxxxxx

The Federation ambassador gasped as her fingers rushed to feel her temple.

"Something wrong, Ambassador?" asked Captain Sulu.

Miranda Jones rubbed her temple, looking out a window at Babylon 5 from the starship Excelsior. "Nothing. I only sensed great surprise and outrage on that station." She continued to focus on the station through the window, concentrating, then suddenly, her eyes flew open wide. "Captain, let me change my answer. Yes, there is something wrong. Something very wrong." Miranda turned to face Sulu. "The balance of power in this sector has changed!"

xxxxxxxxx

The transporter effect appeared and faded in a Babylon 5 ambassadorial suite, revealing Miranda Jones. She looked around, making sure nothing in her quarters has been disturbed. Good. No one has broken in during her absence. While many knew about the Federation's teleportation technology, it was still a good idea not to flaunt the transporter in the face of the locals. Therefore, several Starfleet officers have rented rooms on the station. Few of them were actually used for residency. It was spurious, she knew, but it not only helped build a bond between Starfleet and Babylon 5, but also eased the locals' anxieties.

"Computer, I want to place a call to Commander Ivanova."

The BabCom chirped cheerfully and said, _"Working."_

It was time for Ambassador Miranda Jones to step up her work and attach her embassy to the station's command staff. She didn't care about Areel Shaw or her precious Judge Advocate General. It was fortunate, she thought, that the Federation placed great trust in its starship captains and its ambassadors. Whatever a captain or ambassador agreed to, the rest of the Federation was obliged to uphold it until and unless overridden by Starfleet Command and a majority vote in the Federation Council or the Federation Supreme Assembly.

xxxxxxxx

Miranda was now walking briskly down a corridor in Green Sector. She smiled her delight at her luck when a transport tube door opened conveniently for her. Inside the tube was a Narn.

"Citizen G'Kar."

"My dear ambassador, going to see Commander Ivanova, aren't you?"

The human woman frowned at the former Narn ambassador. G'Kar seemed to know too much for a non-telepath. She had used the best Starfleet technology to make sure that her quarters weren't bugged and keep her communications secure. She wondered what would happen if G'Kar suddenly became a telepath. "Blue Sector," she said to the transport tube's computer, ignoring G'Kar.

"Ah! Ivanova, it is! It just so happens that I am going to see her, too, Ambassador! We can work together to achieve what we each want, yes?"

"The business of the Federation remains Federation business."

"Oh, I understand completely, madam! You see, I've received word from the Narn Resistance about a certain important Centauri official going to Narn. It is Narn business, for Narns only." G'Kar raised a finger, looking puzzled and confused. "Except for one small detail, Ambassador."

Miranda stood silently and impassively, giving no hint that she was listening.

"The Narn Resistance is receiving help from someone from your universe. So are the Centauri, but the assistants are..._different_."

A raised eyebrow was the only movement from Miranda. Inside, she was becoming nervous and more interested in what G'Kar was saying. If what he was saying was true, then it would make Starfleet's concerns for the Prime Directive moot.

G'Kar pretended not to notice the ambassador's sudden, if subtle, interest. "Of course, I know who my extra-universal assistants are. I've come to understand that they have very recently become allies of the Federation in spite of over a century of hostilities."

Miranda's raised eyebrow rose even higher. She knew the Narn could only be speaking of Klingons.

"A very small thing to be concerned about, I know, Ambassador. Even smaller than that is the identity of the Centauri's new ally. I have sifted through rumors, sent agents scouring through Centauri space. Discretely, of course. Several of the Resistance's agents have either died or disappeared trying to get this information. I've even worked with the Drazi and the Pak'ma'Ra studying the video records of the Centauri ally attacking their outposts. I know you're working on the new InterStellar Alliance, so you will hear of their complaints soon enough. So far, I've gotten only one name. Maybe it's the name of a person or a planet or even a race." He shook his head, looking even more puzzled. Humor in his eyes showed that the puzzlement and confusion was only a facade. He shrugged. "Maybe even the name of an empire, though I doubt it. Maybe it's time for me to ask a representative of the most respectable extra-universal government, the Federation. Do you know anything about the name...'Romulan'?"

This time, a gasp escaped Miranda. All she could think of was the cold-war maneuvers between the Federation and the Klingon Empire over the past century. These maneuvers sometimes became brush-fires of the cold war between the two star-nations. Capella IV, Elaas and Troyius, Sherman's Planet, Kanutu, even once heating up into a formal declaration of war at Organia. The next thought giving a name for those kind of brush- fires sent a chill through the ambassador: proxy war.

A proxy war between the Klingon and Romulan Empires, using the Narns and Centauri as pawns! This definitely merited the attention of Starfleet Command, even the Federation Council itself! Miranda Jones turned to face the Narn fully. "Citizen G'Kar, tell me everything that you know about this..." She trailed off purposefully. The edge in her voice made threats unnecessary: if he didn't tell everything he knew, she would use her telepathy on him.

G'Kar grinned widely, knowing he has hooked the Federation ambassador. He bowed as if she was a member of the officially extinct royal families in the Inner Circle of Narn. "But, of course, Ambassador!"

xxxxxxx

Nobody moved. Slowly, the realization sank into Garibaldi. In spite of his impassioned speech to the station officers in Security Central, in spite of his plea for the officers to stop tearing each other apart in the name of the dogmas of Clark's regime, they were all too frightened, too unsure, and too loaded with family and friends to risk turning against NightWatch, even to stop NightWatch's usurpation of power in Babylon 5. Disgusted, Garibaldi threw down the NightWatch armband to the floor.

Julie Musante wore a self-assured smirk. "Mr. Garibaldi, as you can see, we are too concerned with the safety of Earth to submit to your...histrionics. You should appreciate our work. I know you are a loyal Earth officer. One more chance, Mr. Garibaldi. Join us and we can work together channeling your frustrations toward keeping Babylon 5 just as safe as Earth."

Garibaldi clenched and unclenched his fists, barely resisting the powerful temptation to punch that smirk off of her face. "You may be a pretty blonde, Ms. Musante, but I already sold my heart to another blonde once. Your charms won't work on me." He pointedly looked around the room. "Besides, I'm afraid of going where everyone has gone before."

The smirk disappeared from Julie's face, her eyes darkening at the slight. "Mr. Garibaldi, as the representative of the NightWatch Division of the Political Office and the Ministry of Peace, you are relieved!" Quickly, she smiled once more, back to her persona of the friendly confident woman from Earth. "Sergeant Zack Allan, as second in command, you are now in charge of station security. Mr. Garibaldi is no longer authorized to be in this area or any other area associated with station security and administration. Please escort him elsewhere."

One of the security guards, now a member of NightWatch, tried to take Garibaldi by the arm. The former security chief violently pushed the man away. "I know the way!" He stalked away, but stopped at the door for a parting shot at Zack Allan. "Is this the way you wanted it, Zack? Is it?"

xxxxxxxx

NightWatch security guards swept through the Zocalo, rousting a group of people watching an ISN newscast, telling them to move along. Miranda Jones noticed that one of the people watching the newscast was what was called a Ranger. She knew that the dark-dressed human was connected to the Minbari Ambassador Delenn somehow, but she never asked about it nor did she delve into a Ranger's or Delenn's mind. Through the alliance between Kirk and Sheridan and Delenn, she trusted that information about the Rangers would be forthcoming soon enough.

G'Kar was saying happily, "...no one listened to me. I believe you are the first to really listen to me, Ambassador." He noticed Miranda studying the commotion in the Zocalo. "Perhaps by listening together, we can create an alliance dedicated to baking cookies for everyone on the station..."

Miranda sharply looked at G'Kar, her lips twitching into a ghost of a smile. "I apologize, Citizen. Cookies may be a good and delicious idea, but..." She became worried. "There seems to be something happening here."

"Yes. It is the Zocalo, after all. None of us here are what we appear to be. The place's always very busy, lots of trading going on, but underneath it all, more is happening. You have been here a relatively very short time, Ambassador, but you are already recognizing the fact that—"

A man shouted excitedly over the noise of the Zocalo. "Hey, over here! They've started shooting!" That caused people everywhere to start moving on the news monitors throughout the bazaar. G'Kar and Miranda were two of them.

The entire Zocalo quieted enough for the voice of the ISN reporter to be heard. _"Repeating this special bulletin. We have just received raw footage of a firefight between EarthForce ships taking place even now at the transfer point on Io. The main vessel has been positively identified as the Alexander, under the command of General William Hague. The Alexander and her two companion vessels have been surrounded by EarthForce cruisers and ordered to surrender. The Alexander has refused to surrender and is calling for other EarthForce divisions to join in opposing President Clark."_

The NightWatch security patrol reappeared and began working into the crowd watching ISN.

_"For the first time since the early days of the Mars Rebellion, Earth vessels are fighting one another."_

One of the NightWatch guards raised his voice above the commotion. "Hey, let's break it up! Break it up! Let's go!"

Action shown in the ISN footage prompted a cheer from the audience.

_"The Excalibur have been hit, allowing Hague and his companion vessels to escape!"_

The cheering grew louder, and the NightWatch guards waded into the crowd, trying to disperse it by force.

"Ambassador Jones," said G'Kar, "I believe the universe is telling us to go now."

"I agree."

As Miranda and G'Kar began to slip away, a civilian took exception to being manhandled by the NightWatch. Unarmed, the civilian turned onto a guard and quickly got the upper hand. All too quickly, the Zocalo became host to a general riot. All the NightWatch guards now had their hands full with fighting civilians, and many aliens as well, as Captain John Sheridan came on the monitor. He spoke calmly in coincidental counterpoint to the melee spreading through the Zocalo.

_"This is Captain John Sheridan, commander of Babylon 5."_

A liquor bottle flew at a NightWatch guard but missed. G'Kar saw it coming and covered Miranda, holding up his metal-studded arm to shatter the bottle.

_"I have received orders this day, March 18, 2260, from the President of the Earth Alliance declaring a state of emergency. As of this moment, Babylon 5 is under martial law."_

This announcement caused the fight to intensify. Reinforcements led by Zack Allan began to pour in from security.

_"A curfew of 1900 hours will be maintained until further notice. Station personnel reserve the right to intercept and monitor communications in and out of Babylon 5. There will be stiff penalties against anyone caught inciting to riot, or taking any action against the security of this station, Earth, or any of its holdings. Copies of the notice will be posted in all public places. Inquiries should be directed to command staff or myself. Thank you for your attention."_

A chair flew over Zack's ducked head, smashing one of the monitors on which Sheridan was speaking.

xxxxxxx

In Command and Control, Ivanova rubbed at her back, softly groaning at the dull pain there. She knew it was tension from the situation with NightWatch and the martial law finally spreading throughout the Earth Alliance. She hoped that General Hague made it out of Jupiter and that the military and Senate could find the strength to put down Clark's regime.

A feather-light tendril crept into Ivanova's mind. Alarmed, she slammed barriers down around her mind, whirling to glare suspiciously around C&C. Was there a telepath here trying to scan her? If anyone happened to be looking at her at the moment, that person would quickly regret it.

No one was looking at her. Although David Corwin shot a curious glance up from the 'Pit' at Ivanova's sudden movement. She knew that Corwin couldn't be a telepath, but where did that tendril come from?

It's me, Miranda Jones.

The touch was similar to that of her mother, Sophie Ivanova. Miranda? The commander looked around the C&C again, determined to spot the Federation ambassador. No such luck. Where could she be?

A mental sigh breathed through her mind. I am outside the door. Relax.

Ivanova widened her eyes. No Earth telepath could ever be able to telepathically communicate or scan without a line of sight! Her eyes narrowed again. Could it be a trap? Is PsiCorps behind the door, waiting to pounce on her? Her barriers should have prevented any communication, yet she's hearing a voice claiming to be from Miranda Jones.

Another sigh, this time vexed. I am Miranda Jones. This is not a PsiCorps trick. I have little time before someone spots me. Here's my proof. In spite of the rigidly held barriers around Ivanova's mind, another tendril slipped in. She gasped as suddenly, an image was laid over her sight of C&C. She could see the corridor outside the room running through C&C. It was disorienting. Suddenly, the view lurched as if Ivanova was looking down at her body which was now covered with a ghostly image of the Federation ambassador's exotic jewel net. In truth, Ivanova was still looking straight ahead. Her stomach threatened to heave at the disorientation.

Breathe. Don't look at the command center. Look at the window.

Ivanova obeyed. The disorientation lessened when she could see the starry blackness of space underneath the mental image. She could see a hand slip under the jewel net and withdraw a small makeup mirror. Miranda's face stared out of the mirror. Proof enough?

Ivanova drew a trembling breath. As far as she knew, the PsiCorps had nothing like this interposition of sights except in deep scans done by bare-skin touching. That was proof enough. The mirror made the proof even more solid.

Good. Now...Citizen G'Kar and I have an idea to save us all. Listen carefully...

xxxxxxxx

Sheridan glared at the paper he was reading. It was another 'clarification' of President Clark's order of martial law, with additional orders to keep the Federationers under close surveillance. He crumpled it and threw it across his office in an outburst of anger. He disgustedly rubbed his arms.

"I need a shower," he muttered to himself.

Julie Musante sauntered into the captain's office. Sheridan was sorely tempted to pick up the crumpled paper and stuff it down her throat.

"Ah, I see you're upset about the civil disorder in...what do you call it? The Zocalo! It's over now, thanks to NightWatch. You can relax now. With my help, your control of Babylon 5 has never been better!"

"Control?" Sheridan looked up at Julie. Was she kidding? "Martial law is control by the gun. Historically, it has never been known to last long!"

"And it won't. As I said, this is only a temporary measure to ensure the Earth Alliance's safety and security."

"I'm not so sure that 'safety and security' will last long either. We've just seen one single alien vessel smash its way through Centauri space all the way to Jupiter. The Centauri are poised to invade the InterStellar Alliance—!"

Julie shook her head, looking as if Sheridan got his information wrong. "Earth would never ally itself with a government that's bent on war."

"Well, the Centauri have attacked border worlds and posts in the Drazi Freehold and the Pak'ma'Ra Dictat, and EarthGov has, in fact, signed a pact of alliance with the Centauri."

"Exactly! That proves my point! Again, Earth would never ally itself with a belligerent government. Yes, the Centauri had several military actions on their borders, but they were only setting up buffer zones. In a way, they are doing exactly what we are doing: ensuring their own security and safety in the best way they know! Not surprising when there are anarchists who cannot accept the fact that the Narn conflict is over!"

Sheridan was now looking skeptical.

"All right, you have some concerns," conceded Julie, "but there are ways of expressing those concerns which won't cause problems for leaders like yourself. Now..." She sat down on the office's couch. "I am your political officer. This means if you have any problems at all, you can tell me and I'll help you."

"Beside the martial law?"

She smiled. "Beside that, of course. We've been over this already and it's out of our hands."

Sheridan studied Julie. He knew that she was the President's mouthpiece. He had to tread carefully here, yet at the same time, address a few issues without being dragged before a possibly fatal inquiry. "Well, uh..., we do have some problems with the lurkers, but it's nothing we—"

"Lurkers?"

"It's our version of the homeless. In many ways, we have the same problem Earth does."

"Mmm. Earth doesn't have homeless."

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"We don't have the problem. Yes, there are some...um...displaced people. Here and there. But, um, they've chosen to be in that position. They're either lazy or they're criminal or they're mentally unstable."

Sheridan couldn't believe the things that Julie was spouting. "They can't get a job!"

"EarthGov has promised a job to anyone that wants one. So, if someone doesn't have a job, they must not want one."

"Umm, poverty?" The captain's expression now bordered on insolence.

Julie didn't seem to notice. "Mmm. It's the same."

"Crime?"

"Yes, there is some, but it's all caused by the mentally unstable. Biological research shows that crime is largely a genetic trait in addition to mental instability. So we've instituted correctional centers to filter them out at an early age."

"Prejudice?"

"Hmm? No, we're just..." Julie searched for the right term for a while. "...one happy planet!"

Captain Sheridan looked skeptical.

"Well, all right, there's the Marsies. But that won't change until they stop fighting Earth rule."

His disbelief had been growing with each answer that Julie gave. He had no idea that Earth changed this much. Martial law is a major change, but this—! "When did all this happen?"

"When we rewrote the dictionary. Captain, you're a good man. You're a fine soldier. A leader. You understand that sometimes, before you can deal with a problem, you have to redefine it."

"But...but you can't deal with the problems by pretending they don't exist!"

Julie made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Oh, there's no need to embarrass our leaders by pointing out the flaws in our society that they're aware of and dealing with in their own way." She became exasperated. "Like the traitor Hague, some people just enjoy finding fault with our leaders! They're anarchists! Troublemakers! Or they're simply just unpatriotic! None of which describes you. Now, do you want people thinking otherwise? These are the areas I want to help you with. I want to feel like I'm needed, that I'm doing my part to help bring the EarthGov back into the hands of the decent, hard-working people that created it! It's why we have martial law! It's why I am here to protect you!" Julie leaned forward in the couch, reaching out and taking Sheridan by the hand. "I admire your honesty and your record and your attitude. And I don't want to see anyone use those things against you!" She released his hand, leaning back into the couch and crossing her legs. Somehow, the way she crossed her legs made her skirt's hem slip higher. "Quite frankly, I think I could come to like you, quite a lot."

Sheridan was feeling uneasy. Either Julie was a really good actress or she was really being sincere. He has never liked being unable to pin his estimate down on a person. "I, uh, I need water. Would you like some?"

"Thank you."

Sheridan had to keep from running to the office's barrette. He unstoppered the crystal decanter filled with iced water and began pouring into glasses. "Maybe it is a good thing you're here, Ms. Musante. I would have been...lost in the...new dictionary that EarthGov has written! I may not be completely on board with that, but then again, politics has never been my forte. Like you said, I'm just a soldier." He turned to see if Julie agreed.

His eyes bulged. Julie Musante was still leaning back into the couch, but she had dislodged several buttons to allow her blouse to reveal a lot of her breasts and leaned back as if she was trying to use her breasts to dislodge the rest of the buttons. She was also spreading her legs wide. Sheridan's eyes bulged further as the light glittered on golden hair. Was Julie wearing nothing under her skirt?

"Like I said, Captain, we must all do our part. Perhaps now you find the presence of a political officer a bit more...appealing?"

It was fortunate that the captain wasn't holding a glass of water. His hands were now very lax. He couldn't think. He was still trying to bring his blown mind back into his head, but somewhere someone had opened an airlock, sucking his mind out in space. "Hmm, I...don't think..."

"Good." Julie stood, shrugging off her suit jacket, and walked up to Sheridan, looking pleased at his reaction. A hand reached up into her hair, releasing it from the bun. "Don't!" She smiled wider. "I understand that the military have its own thrill. Perhaps the thrill of the office would be more...appreciable. Anyone could walk in at any moment."

His eyes panickedly shot to the office entrance which didn't have a door.

"Don't worry." Julie's hand was now slowly reaching for his neck. "I've made sure no one will need to come in."

At that moment, Commander Ivanova and Ambassador Miranda walked in. Fortunately, Julie was in a position where she couldn't see the entrance. Sheridan and Ivanova exchanged startled looks, and the commander's mouth was hanging wide open. Miranda frowned, not sure to believe what her sensor net was telling her, and her frown became deeply disapproving when the sensor net insisted and her telepathy confirmed it.

Julie could see Sheridan looking behind her at the entrance. She chuckled. "I said...don't worry! I'll show you..." She began to turn around, but Sheridan grabbed her in a clinch and planted a big long kiss on her. Carefully, he waved Ivanova and Miranda off behind Julie's back. Ivanova and Miranda exchanged a look and backed out of the office.

The kiss ended. Julie was looking very pleased. "Better! But there's no need to rush."

The two women's arrival had finally shut the airlock door and Sheridan was able to think fast. "No. No, there's not." He laughed nervously as he backed away from Julie.

"John, I've always admired you and I've always wanted to meet you. We're so lucky that I'm your political officer. So lucky..." Julie's fingers reached up to her blouse's buttons.

Sheridan grinned at her, looking down at her blouse. "Well, it must be colder in here than I thought. I'll fix it!"

He walked past her out of the office. The non-sequitur had the effect that he intended on Julie. She was confused, then annoyed.

xxxxxxx

The next day, Zack Allan found Julie Musante eating breakfast at a Zocalo eatery.

"Uh...good morning, Ms. Musante." Zack was very uncomfortable.

Julie continued to focus on her breakfast, saying "Good morning, Mr. Allan" distractedly.

"I, uh...I couldn't reach you last night."

She tensed a little, while a frown was brought by a memory. She looked up at Zack, waiting for any further comment from him.

"Uh...seen the Captain?"

Her frown became deeper. "He must be a great negotiator. I've never seen anyone come up with so many creative ways of saying no to a simple proposition."

His discomfort almost forgotten, Zack flashed a smile. "Well, I've always liked the sound of 'yes', myself."

Julie was taken aback a little. She took a moment to breathe and turned to Zack, letting an edge creep into her voice. "You have something on your mind, obviously. What is it?"

The new chief of station security now fidgeted and squirmed as he stood. Julie had to wonder if squirming was his talent. "Well, umm..." He took a deep breath and spoke in a rush to get it all out. "I was in a meeting with the Captain, the Chief, G'Kar and Miranda last night. At 1100, a Federation fleet's gonna come. A transport from the fleet's gonna dock in Bay 9. It'll be carrying a couple hundred Narn and Federation troops. They're being brought in to replace us. They wanted me to help them, but I can't! I just can't do it!"

"What?" Julie was aghast. "What the hell John's doing! It's sedition!" She quickly stood up. "Mr. Allan, organize a force. Use everyone you can get. My God! Has everyone gone mad!" She pursed her lips. "You did the right thing in coming to me, Mr. Allan. Now I have to go and stop this before it goes too far!"

She stalked off, fuming. Zack didn't look like he knew he was doing the right thing.

xxxxxxxx

Julie Musante charged into Sheridan's office, looking very enraged. Sheridan and Garibaldi looked up.

"John! I demand an explanation! I've just learned that—" She noticed Garibaldi looking at her innocently. "John... What is he doing here? He's forbidden from all areas of station security and administration!"

Sheridan looked at Garibaldi blankly. "Him? Oh, Mike's a good friend of mine. The book doesn't forbid the invitation of friends into the captain's office. Ms. Musante, you said you wanted an explanation...?"

A hand clapped to her mouth in shocked realization. "My God! It's true! You are a traitor!"

The captain took umbrage at the accusation. "Now look here, Ms. Musante! I am not a traitor." He calmed himself before continuing. "Ms. Musante, the order for NightWatch to take over Babylon 5 security came from the Political Office, correct?"

"Yes...," said Julie, unsure of where Sheridan was going with this.

"The Political Office, despite its connection to the President, is a civilian agency outside the direct chain of command. Orders affecting military personnel must come from within the military hierarchy, starting from the President, through the Joint Chiefs of Staff, to my superior officers. A Senator cannot give me a direct order. A governor cannot give me a direct order. And neither can the Political Office! The order giving NightWatch control of Babylon 5 is an illegal order!" Sheridan grinned brightly. "Madame Political Officer, am I right?"

Julie gaped. She soon found the breath to speak. "What about our agreement? Safety and security? John, what you're talking about is treason! You're throwing away your career! Narns! Federation soldiers! You're bringing in aliens to replace decent humans?"

"Actually, that's not all we're going to do... I'm putting NightWatch out of commission on Babylon 5!"

Another person entered the office. It was Spock, hands clasped in front and dressed in a black flowing Vulcan robe with silver Vulcan script running down a side.

"What is this! Another alien? Captain Sheridan, you know as well as I do that members of alien military organizations are not allowed in here! You may be trying to stick to the rules, but you're breaking a big rule right there!"

"That is not accurate, Ms. Musante," said Spock. "We apologize for not informing you in time, but I do have a title outside of my..." He raised an eyebrow. "...'alien military organization.' It was given me by my government when a neighboring empire proposed peace with us. To be precise, Ms. Musante, I am not here as a Starfleet officer, but in my capacity as the Federation Special Envoy."

Julie looked like she was going to be sick. "It's nonsense! The President was right! Aliens are trying to subvert people in EarthForce and EarthGov! What a mess!" She sighed as she massaged the bridge of her nose. "I'm glad I caught this...this...outrage in time. Damage control is a great waste of time, effort and resources, John. But you will be punished. Severely, publicly and permanently!"

Garibaldi and Sheridan looked at each other and shrugged. The captain said, "I'm afraid we're too busy right now to be punished." They stood up and began to walk out with Spock in tow. Julie's mouth worked to try and stop them.

Spock paused as he passed the political officer and turned to Julie. "I am afraid we cannot permit you to warn any member of the NightWatch or the Earth Government." He reached up to where her neck met her shoulder and pinched. Julie gave a quick gasp and fainted, tumbling down to the floor.

"Man!" said Garibaldi, amazed. "You gotta teach me that!"

xxxxxxx

Outside the O'Neill-class space station and beyond the vicinity of the local jumpgate, warp-flashes bloomed brightly and briefly. Eight pearlescent Federation starships stretched out of the flashes and came to a slow halt like rubber bands un-stretching. Many of the various vessels buzzing around Babylon 5 paused to study this spectacle, some in shock, some in wonder, and not a few in alarm. Two of the vessels, the Springfield and the Excelsior, noted that the starships all fit the list given by the JAG officer, Areel Shaw, for Operation Retrieve.

The Federation Starfleet task force has arrived.

xxxxxxx

Captain Sheridan was feeling good about the arrest of the entire NightWatch force. He had been amazed at the fleet that the Federation brought. It worked perfectly in convincing NightWatch to go into Bay 8. Though he had to wonder why the Federation was willing to send such a large force. He knew about the Enterprise's and Excelsior's power and technology, having seen them in battle. Not only against EarthForce, but also against the Centauri and the Shadows. He would have been nervous about such a powerful force sitting outside his station if not for Miranda's promise that the starships would depart quickly and soon. He glanced at Citizen G'Kar as they walked down the corridor.

"G'Kar, thank you for your help. It's amazing... Crime has actually gone down since your Narns joined Security. They've even managed to deal with the Centauri without a problem. I'm impressed. If there's anything that I can do..."

"There is!" said G'Kar as they stopped at the entrance to Sheridan's office. "I want in!"

Sheridan frowned nervously. "In...what?"

"You have been assembling a new alliance. Don't try to deny it. I've been here too long not to notice. I wish to join."

"I'll uh...have to talk it over with the others."

"Please do so. I have time. All the time in the world. Do you?" With that, G'Kar walked off.

xxxxxxx

Captain Sulu sat in his command chair on the Excelsior. He felt the arms of his chair and looked around at the activities on his bridge. Babylon 5 hung obliquely in the main viewscreen. In the distance, the jumpgate flashed in its vortex generation and a Minbari flyer appeared out of hyperspace. It was only one more ship to watch the Federation fleet.

The turbolift door slid open. A man dressed in the Starfleet uniform had a gold sash tied as a belt around his maroon tunic. His blond hair was tied in a short braid down his back. Sulu recognized him in spite of the new hardness in his eyes and was delighted.

"Leonard! It is good to have you back alive."

"Yes, sir," said Leonard James Akaar curtly.

Sulu frowned at Akaar's attitude. Wolf 359 has changed the Capellan man. The Excelsior wasn't at the battle with the Borg but the description of the graveyard of starships had chilled him. He didn't want to know what it was like to fight one single powerful alien vessel and watch entire fleets die. Even now, the InterStellar Alliance and the Minbari were still working to salvage the broken ships and sifting through the ruins for survivors. Akaar had been found by the Springfield in the system before that starship came to Babylon 5.

Sulu shook his head to himself as Akaar went to work at his station. Thousands must have died fighting the Borg at Wolf 359. His mind retreated from the thought. As long as Akaar worked well as a Starfleet officer, he would be fine on the Excelsior. The mission would tell the captain more about him. Sulu turned his attention to the task at hand.

"Navigator, plot a course to the Earth Alliance Sol System."

"Course plotted and laid in, Captain," said Lieutenant Angelo Tiffe.

Sulu closed his hands over the chair-arms' ends. This particular expedition could very possibly start a full-scale war between the Earth Alliance and the Federation. It was a risky endeavor taken at a very risky time right at the heel of the Borg incursion. The Earth Alliance was in the throes of controversy over President Clark's administration, and tension was building up between the Federation and the Romulan Empire. Risky. But was it any riskier than leaving Captain Kirk in the hands of the Earth Alliance?

"All stations report," ordered Captain Hikaru Sulu.

"Helm ready, aye," said Lieutenant Commander Kruton Lojur.

"Engineering ready, aye," said Lieutenant Commander Devon Gabler.

"Ops ready, aye," said Ensign Tuvok of Vulcan.

"Tactical ready, aye," said the newly promoted Commander Leonard James Akaar.

"All ships report ready," said Lieutenant Commander Janice Rand. "The fleet is at your command, Captain."

"Warp 6. Let's roll."

The 10 starships of the Starfleet task force oriented themselves to face the star of Sol. The blue glow on their warp nacelles brightened and flashed. The vicinity of Babylon 5 was treated to the view of starships rubber-banding out into the dark distance until warp-flashes took them. Not a few spectators wondered about the purpose and destination of this fleet.

xxxxxxx

Captain Sheridan came into the C&C. Commander Ivanova looked around at his entrance. "Hi, Captain. Ambassador Delenn just got back. She's looking forward to talking to you about everything that's happened."

"Good." Sheridan could see that there was more to come. "Is there anything else?"

Ivanova sighed. "I just saw a report on ISN. Four of the five cruisers that defected with General Hague have been shot down. They say he's on the run and they expect to capture him next time he comes out of hyperspace."

"Well, he won't go down without a fight!"

"No, sir. No, he won't."

"They'll be coming for us next, you know."

"I know." Ivanova sighed and looked out the window at space. The Federation fleet was at that moment orienting itself. "Never thought it would end like this."

"Me either." Sheridan watched the Federation fleet's departure with Ivanova. Whatever they were going to do, he wished them good luck.


	26. Traitors and Patriots

"Traitors and Patriots"

_A civil war is, we may say, the prototype of all war, for in the persons of fellow citizens who happen to be the enemy we meet again with the old ambivalence of love and hate and with all the old guilts, the blood brothers of our childhood. In a civil war—especially one such as this when the nation shares deep and significant convictions and is not a mere handbasket of factions huddled arbitrarily together by historical happen-so—all the self-divisions of conflicts within individuals become a series of mirrors in which the plight of the country is reflected, and the self-division of the country a great mirror in which the individual may see imaged his own deep conflicts, not only the conflicts of political loyalty, but those more profoundly personal._

–Robert Penn Warren, Ken Burns' _The Civil War_

**MarsDome, Mars**

The leader of the Mars Provisional Government gazed out the window of his office. Xavier Montoya could see the canyon of the Valle Marineris stretching far into the distance. The Sol System's deepest and longest canyon stretched too far for him to see the other end, but he could see the metal skeleton works of the city dome crossing the canyon from side to side and dropping down to the floor. The city lights climbed up from the artificial lake covering the enclosed valley floor along the cliff sides. Green plants spilled down the red cliffs among the buildings, creating a hanging garden for Mars' capital city.

Montoya heard that MarsDome was sometimes called the Petra of Mars or even the Mesa Verde of Mars. He liked to think that the city was grander than either the ancient Greco-Roman cliff city in Jordan or the ancient Anasazi cliff city in Arizona on Earth. The governor sighed. Whatever he decided now, this city, and others like it across the face of Mars, would feel the effects. He was, after all, the leader of more land than any of the greatest empires in Earth history.

He wished that whoever the aliens were who left intriguing remains in Syria Planum and Cydonia had left viable defenses for him to use. He wished he had the courage to use the gigantic mysterious alien device hidden inside the Pyramid Mount at Cydonia. He also wondered what the ancient Martians would think of the modern Marsies.

Montoya turned away from the window and looked down at his desk. On its teak surface was the plastic paper bearing the order from President Clark to implement the renewal of martial law on Mars.

Martial law to replace Martian law once again.

When the Borg invaded the Earth Alliance, martial law seemed like a good idea for planetary security. The population, for the most part, supported it. Even then, it was a troublesome measure that constantly threatened to provoke something like the Martian Food Riots or even the Mars Rebellion. A renewal was sure to stoke the anger of the colony against Earth. A refusal was sure to stoke the anger of Earth against the red planet.

Either way, Xavier Montoya would suffer the consequences of his decision as a traitor or a patriot. And either way, Clark's law would still reign supreme for a time.

Did the name of the planet bless Mars with an atmosphere of perpetual conflict?

The governor pressed a button in his desk, activating the intercom to speak to his faithful secretary. "Veronica, convene the Provisional Council and alert the other domes." He paused before continuing. "I'm rejecting the President's order."

The secretary took some time to acknowledge the governor. _"Yes, sir."_ The tone in her voice implied she was very aware of the grave consequences.

Now that the moment of truth was past, the governor was oddly relieved. He sat in his plush high-backed chair and turned to gaze out the window once more. Any response from Earth wouldn't come through the StellarCom, but from the sky beyond the dome covering this end of the Valle Marineris.

He began to wait.

**Orion 7, Chi Orionis System, Earth Alliance**

Thirty-two light-years from Mars, another important event was taking place.

In the EarthForce Orion Command building, several people were seated around a table. Three were dressed in EarthForce uniforms and three others were civilians. One of the EarthForce personnel, having the pins of a general, spoke.

"Well, people, we have it bad, don't we?"

Most of the others thought it could be construed as an understatement. The Earth Alliance was teetering on the edge of civil war, something that was unthinkable ever since First Contact.

"General Hague, are you sure this coup of yours is going to help us?"

William Hague rubbed his silvering close-trimmed beard as he looked at the speaker. "Senator Crane, if we don't do something, Clark is going to make us a dictatorship. I, and everyone else in EarthForce, have sworn to uphold the Earth Constitution. Clark is trashing that. As much as our humanity got us into this mess, our humanity will get us out again!"

The general looked around the table. His aide, Major Ryan was seated beside him. On his other side was Captain Sandra Hiroshi of the Churchill. Across from them sat the three civilians, Senators Marie Crane and Susanna Luchenko, and the governor of the Orion colonies, Albrecht Dietermunde. The senators were two of the few who escaped EarthDome. Susanna now spoke.

"What is going to make your coup any different than Clark's regime? If it succeeds, all it would do is place a military junta in power over the Earth Alliance."

Sandra eyed the Russian senator. "Like the general said, we are sworn to uphold the Constitution. We take our oaths seriously. We _will_ restore the Constitution once Clark is out of his office. Meaning, Senator, we _will_ restore the Senate, help in the impeachment and trial of President Clark, and holding a general election for the presidency."

Susanna merely nodded, reserving her judgment.

Major Ryan said, "Shock troops are out in force everywhere on Earth—Paris, London, New York, Moscow, New Delhi, Beijing. We will need to overcome them. That'd be easier if we had civilians out in force as well to keep the troops busy."

"That's the irony," said Senator Marie Crane. "Most of them are welcoming martial law!" She shook her head at the fickle masses. "It has cut crime down to nothing. On the surface, it's peaceful on Earth."

"Peace of the gun!" scoffed Sandra.

Hague nodded. "Clark is overextended. He has NightWatch and the bulk of our forces at Earth and Jupiter. We have at least one chance—Mars. If their MO is still the same, I think the Marsies will stand up to Clark. When that happens, they might be able to rally support from some of the other colony worlds and push him out of power."

"If push comes to shove," said Governor Albrecht Dietermunde, "you can count on the support of the three Orion colonies." Seeing the grave, but grateful, looks on the EarthForce personnel, he added, "I know that will mean civil war. The Belt Alliance has been itching to…_forcefully_ complain about the way Earth has been treating us, and to become a power in Orion government." Earth's way of Alliance governance was indeed too much like the mercantilism used by the early imperial powers of Spain, France and England before the Napoleonic Wars. He shrugged. "Guess they will become a government in the Orion System after this. You said that you have been sworn to uphold the Constitution but so many people in EarthForce are going along with Clark's regime."

"Dee-ter-monday," responded Major Ryan, causing the governor to wince at the mangling of his last name, "he spent the last year putting _his_ people in key places. Anyone who raises a voice is immediately arrested and charged with treason. Under conditions like that, it's easier to keep quiet."

"Civil war," said Marie, shaking her head. "Who would have thought we'd come to this?"

General Hague shrugged. "I think the Earth Alliance have been living on borrowed time. When the Centauri first came to us, the Alliance was having serious problems. Only First Contact, then interstellar adventures, kept us from civil war. We are only a century late. However, if we pull this off, we can still keep ourselves from spiraling down into civil war."

Susanna said, "I will go back to Earth and try to work against Clark from the inside."

Dietermunde was surprised at the Russian senator's announcement. "Clark closed down the Senate. You are on the wanted list. Hell, your shuttle might even be shot down on sight! What makes you think you can survive going back there?"

Susanna smiled, though there was no humor in it. "I have…certain contacts in the Star Chamber."

Eyebrows shot up all around the table. The Star Chamber, also known as Bureau 13, was the rumored shadow government within the Earth Alliance. Supposedly, it has been in existence ever since long before the Industrial Revolution on Earth and was supposed to be an outgrowth of the old secret societies of the Freemasons and the Illuminati. Generally, it has been dismissed as figments of the imagination and paranoia. For a powerful senator, like Susanna Luchenko, to give voice to its existence, it meant it cannot be dismissed out of hand.

"Clark has ruined a lot of things and a lot of plans," Susanna was saying, "and many groups, including some of the MegaCorps and the Star Chamber don't like that. If we work behind the scenes successfully, your coup wouldn't have to launch a major assault on Earth itself."

Hague nodded his appreciation. "Good. Now, we have to leave here. My sources at Earth Central have told me that Clark has heard about our meeting and is sending a small force to this system. Major Ryan and I will go through the outer colonies on the way to pushing Clark out of power…. Show our flag, so to speak. The route will take us through Babylon 5's space."

"Babylon 5?" Sandra didn't like the idea. "Sheridan was given that post by Clark himself. Wouldn't he turn us in?"

"Oh," Hague answered with a smile. "He is a soldier. Clark thought that meant he's easier to control. Sheridan's smarter than that. He doesn't confuse the President with the Constitution and has been part of my group for quite a while."

"Yes, sir."

"At Babylon 5," Hague continued, "I could try to drum up support from some of the alien governments, but I won't put much stock in them. Most of the major powers are divided, distracted and busy with their own problems. I don't know about the other human power from the parallel universe, so I won't give you any hope of that. Other than that, it's a good place to gather support from more of the military, then go to Earth and try to pull off the coup. Meanwhile, Captain Hiroshi will stay here to coordinate the Belt Alliance fighter defense for when Clark's force arrives here. When that's done, the Churchill will meet with the Alexander and others of our forces before going on to Mars."

"Are you sure?" Sandra protested once more. "These Belt fighters…well…." She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "No offense, governor, but the EarthForce slang for your pilots is 'splash bait.'

The governor of the Orion System retorted, "And your own starfury pilots are called 'zepplins.' As in 'full of hot air.' Captain, they are some of the best we have in this sector. They have to be since we're so far off away from the main body of the Earth Alliance. They've fought off attacks by Raiders and aliens. They're quite skilled in arresting smugglers and skippers."

"'Skippers'?"

"Those who illegally skip paying the jumpgate usage fees. Anyway, mark my word; they _will_ make their mark against Clark."

"Now that's settled," said William Hague as he stood up. "Major Ryan, prep the Alexander for departure."

"Yes, General."

Hague looked around the table once more, seeing the grim looks on the soldiers and civilians. "In the pre-dawn morning of April 12, 1861, a senator's wife, Mary Chesnut, wrote 'The heavy booming of a cannon—I sprang out of bed, and on my knees, prostrate, I prayed as I have never prayed before.'"

They recognized the date and the words to be about the beginning of the American Civil War at Fort Sumter in Charleston, South Carolina.

"Mars has the potential to be our Fort Sumter. We will act decisively before Clark's inflammation becomes 'secessionitis' throughout the Earth Alliance and we are plunged into a civil war. There are now only two parties," Hague said, "traitors and patriots. I want us to be ranked with the latter. Ladies and gentlemen, pray for us all."

**USS Excelsior**

Tension was high on the bridge of the Federation starship.

"Captain," said Commander Leonard James Akaar, "we've entered Sector 001. The Sol Oort Cloud is directly ahead."

-God help us-, thought Captain Hikaru Sulu. It didn't help matters that Akaar had decided to name this sector after the Federation's own Sector 001. They were very aware that this was not their Federation, but the sector name made him feel like trying to pull off a military assault on the center of the Federation itself. "Helm, take us out of warp. Three-quarter impulse. Signal the fleet to do the same."

"Yes, sir," Angelo Tiffe said.

Dropping out of warp just outside the Sol System made sense because they wouldn't want any of their starships to run headlong into the objects that made up the Oort Cloud that made a sphere around the system, left over from its primal creation. Needless to say, the Federation took advantage of such clouds in many of its systems for passive defenses. Sulu's task force, he knew, was widely dispersed and its divisions would by this time arriving at other distant points of the Oort Cloud. Visually unseen due to distance, the Constitution-class refit Potemkin and the Centaur-class Archer were dropping out of warp with the Excelsior.

Sulu knew about the Potemkin from a test for Dr. Daystrom's multitronic computer unit back when he was still helmsman aboard the old Enterprise.

The Constition-class refit USS Endeavour, hero of the Battle of Donatu V against the Klingons, was paired with the Miranda-class Saratoga and the Akyazi-class Scovil. The Constitution-class refit Endeavour was paired with the Constellation-class Ahwahnee and the Soyuz-class Eagle.

Also with the Excelsior was the Oberth-class starship, Springfield, still uncloaked for now.

Captain Sulu took a deep breath before giving his orders. Here, he was crossing the Rubicon with the Earth Alliance. "Ms. Rand, tell the Springfield to go ahead to Mars under cloak. We need to know what's there before going in. Mr. Akaar, maintain continuous sensor sweep."

"Aye, Captain," complied Akaar. He scrutinized the sensor readings at the tactical station. He was surprised to see that there was a sensor contact. "Captain, I'm picking up a vessel directly ahead."

The tension on the bridge climbed a notch. It couldn't be helped. For all of the Federation's high technology available, they couldn't predict the movement of every ship in the fleet's path. This one must be a deep-space patrol.

"Can you identify?"

Kruton Lojur said, "The ship matches the intelligence description of an Earth Olympus-class corvette destroyer. A short-range attack and patrol vessel…with plasma pulse cannons, rail guns, missiles, six fighters and a standard crew of 87. No gravity technology."

Janice Rand was troubled. Though she still had her old loyalty to Captain Kirk, she didn't fully agree with Starfleet's conduct of this rescue. The description of the Earth ship told her that the Olympus could fit very well in the Starfleet of the Romulan War much better than in the modern Federation. It didn't seem fair to her that they had a task force of ten modern starships against a military force with technology that was about 50 years behind them.

"The vessel is in visual range," reported Akaar.

"Visual."

On the main viewscreen, an Olympus appeared hanging in space against the backdrop of the inactive comets, frozen gas and ice meteors and tiny planetoids that made up the Oort Cloud. Small and boxy with what appeared to be rocket-bodies on its long edges, it was clearly built to be a ship of war as opposed to the clean luxurious lines of the Excelsior.

Behind it shone the tiny, but bright, star of Sol.

Akaar kept studying his tactical readings closely. "The vessel is increasing its speed." He glanced around at Sulu. "They are moving to intercept."

"Have they seen the rest of our squadron?"

"As far as I can tell, no, sir."

"Take us back beyond its normal sensor range, Mr. Tiffe. Make it look like we're leaving, then take us up over the Earth ship. Carefully, Angelo."

"Yes, sir," said Tiffe as he worked his console.

"They are adjusting course to intercept," reported Akaar. "Activating phaser arrays…. Ready to fire, sir."

Sulu, frowning, gestured for Akaar to hold up. "Stand by."

The Capellan seemed too ready for battle. The captain didn't feel good about this. He was hesitant to open fire on other humans especially when the Federation was not in an official state of war with the Earth Alliance.

"Captain—the destroyer is activating its tachyon transceiver."

They were going to warn EarthForce of the Federation presence! If they succeeded, the element of surprise would be gone. "Jam it!"

After Rand had done her part, Lojur said, "Captain, the Earthers have stopped transmitting. They are powering up their weapons." A soft pinging noise sounded in the bridge. "They have locked onto us, sir…."

"Raising shields," said Akaar, following his instincts and training.

A loud reverberating noise sounded throughout the trembling starship. Her shields had just taken plasma pulse bursts backed by a lot of power.

"Captain…?" Akaar wanted to punish the Earthers for trying to hit the starship without warning.

Sulu had no choice. They were all on a schedule. He said grimly, "Return fire."

Akaar worked his console. The Excelsior's phaser turrets fired, making direct hits on the Earth ship. An explosion bloomed on one of the Olympus' cylindrical engine pods. More phaser bolts expertly took out the Olympus' weapon turrets and the tachyon array. The ship tried to run but Akaar, knowing that it was going to try and reach a nearby EarthForce outpost or get out of jamming range, fired more bolts, taking out the other three engines. The ion engines sputtered out, leaving the Olympus dead in space.

"The ship has been disabled."

Captain Sulu pursed his lips at the news and at the sight of the drifting Earth corvette. If this mission somehow went wrong, the boxy ship would be seen as the first casualty of a war between the Earth Alliance and the Federation. "Helm, maintain our course. When we're through the Cloud, increase speed to Warp 3. Drop a message buoy here. When we're finished, we can activate it for—"

Small explosions suddenly tore through the hull of Olympus corvette before combining into a massive explosion. In its wake, only small spinning debris and dissipating gas were left of the vessel.

Shock and surprise reigned on the bridge. They couldn't believe that the ship was that fragile. Instead of leaving it merely disabled until they could activate the message buoy to have it rescued by EarthForce, they've just murdered 87 humans.

Janice Rand appeared distressed.

A brooding silence fells over the bridge, punctuated only by the sound of computers working. Kirk's life has already cost them eighty-seven human lives. How many more would have to be lost before James Kirk was safely on the starship?

Those 87 people were humans, not Klingons, Romulans, Tholians, Orions, Gorns, Nausicaans, Kzinti, Hydrans or any of the other non-Federation alien races. They were just as human as many of the crewmates in the Starfleet task force.

And they were very likely to be just as much a victim of Clark as the Federationers.

Sulu had to silently accept the situation. There was no use crying over spilt milk. "Mr. Tiffe?"

"Yes, sir. Resuming course to Mars."

The Capellan commander quietly stepped up to the captain's chair. He kept his voice low, but audible to the bridge crew. "We're doing well, Captain."

Sulu didn't respond. He stared at the empty viewscreen, his face unreadable….

**Orion System**

Two EarthForce warships were now engaged in a running battle. In the lead, but fleeing, was the Omega-class destroyer Alexander, her centrifugal section slowly rotating; pursuing was a Hyperion-class cruiser. The pursuer was firing its heavy weapons at the Omega destroyer while their respective fighter complements were exchanging fire.

On the Alexander's bridge, Major Ryan turned to an officer, "Bill, how's the General?"

"He's in sickbay. The last hit hurt him bad."

As if to punctuate Bill's point, the Alexander shook with another hit.

"Major, we need to jump now or be destroyed."

"No," Ryan shook his head defiantly. "I won't abandon our fighters. If we leave now, they'd be massacred. If we bring them in for the jump, we'll just take heavier damage even faster."

Another blast rocked the ship.

"If you won't jump, then you've gotta let me open fire with the aft batteries!"

"I don't want to kill any more of our ships!" For all the planning and the talk in the conference at Orion 7, Major Ryan was now faced with the real thing: civil war. When Clark's force jumped into the system, they had worked with the Belt Alliance fighters in devastating the force. Sandra Hiroshi was now hanging back to make sure no more Clarkist vessel endangered the colony.

Bill stepped close to the command chair to look straight into Ryan's eyes. "We have no choice! Forward interceptors on the Roosevelt are down! We can punch through the hull! Major, please! Let me take the gloves off the firing team!"

Major Ryan chewed his lips. Traitors and patriots, the General said on Orion 7 just before Clark's force came through the local jumpgate. The people on the Hyperion cruiser obviously had no qualm about bringing down the Alexander. He nodded. "Tell the aft batteries to open fire!"

Warned from the bridge, the Alexander's fighters broke away from their screening positions and their mothership opened up. One volley was enough to send the Roosevelt up in a big ball of fire.

There was no cheering aboard the Alexander.

"Roosevelt destroyed, Major," said Bill, refusing to call it 'enemy vessel' in spite of events. "Reloading fighters as fast as we can."

Major Ryan stood up. "As soon as they're aboard, make the jump to hyperspace."

The other officer turned to attend to the new orders.

"Bill?" Seeing the officer stop in his tracks, Ryan said, "Did you ever meet the captain of the Roosevelt?"

"No, sir."

"She and the General were at the Academy together. Hague introduced me to her last summer in Maine. She has a husband back home…."

Both men began to let feelings show through their veneer of military professionalism.

"…a daughter…and a black Labrador dog named Max who likes to ride in boats. That's what makes this war different from anything we've gone through before—this time, we _know_ everyone we kill!" Ryan began to anxiously pace the deck. "I'll try to find something to say to her husband. God knows what!" He sighed, shaking his head. "I better go check on the General."

"Sir? Once we jump…what's our course?"

The major sighed again. He was slightly thankful that the captain of the Roosevelt was not a sternly decisive commander like the captain of the Clarkstown which was destroyed by the Borg. He said, "We need to make repairs, catch our breath. There's no time for our 'tour' of the outer colonies after all. There's only one place safe for us. Set course for Babylon 5."

**USS Excelsior**

A monitor screen showed a schematic of Mars' system. Its two moons hung at opposite sides of the red planet. A ringed space station hung close to the larger of the two moons, Deimos. Stylized stars represented orbital satellites and platforms around Mars. A Starfleet delta symbol kept its distance to the side of the screen.

"The Springfield is still cloaked and it can see everything here," Commander Akaar was saying.

"Any EarthForce activity?" queried Captain Sulu.

"As far as the Springfield can see, not much, sir. The bulk of EarthForce is still at Earth and Jupiter. There are activities detected in the Martian fighter bases and starports, but nothing else. Captain, this means EarthForce is still unaware of our plans and presence. I suggest we make the most of this opportunity."

Angelo Tiffe said, "I recommend a randomly vectored approach to Mars. It would be our best chance of avoiding detection and pursuit once we drop out of warp. Let them think our ships are sensor ghosts and be confused for a while."

The captain nodded. "Agreed."

Ensign Tuvok stepped up to the monitor and tapped in a command in a panel beside it. The schematic of Mars expanded until the screen was filled with the red planet's surface. A star at the center of a screen-wide crosshair blinked at an area on it.

"This is Lunis Planum. There is a high probability that Captain Kirk is being held in the prison complex there. However, we cannot know for certain until we have scanned the entire planet. I recommend we do not delay."

"Aside from the fact that he's my friend and is likely to be interrogated as we speak," said Sulu, playing Devil's advocate, "why must we be quick about the retrieval?"

Tuvok tapped in another command and another star blinked close to the first star with its own crosshair. "There is a PsiCorps base at Syria Planum. I do not know the statistics, but it would be logical to conclude that the Earth Alliance may decide to turn the interrogation over to human telepaths when Captain Kirk resists too long." Though the Vulcan showed no emotion, Sulu knew that he didn't like the idea of using telepaths for interrogations. It reeked too much of pre-Surak Vulcan.

He couldn't say he liked the idea either. Most of the time, whenever a Starfleet officer was captured by a hostile force, he or she is subjected to a physical interrogation. Even though all Starfleet personnel were briefed about telepathic interrogations and trained against them, there wasn't much occasion for the use of that training. Most of the Federation's current enemies did not have a wide population base of telepaths. The Romulans may have a few, but like the Klingons, they preferred to use the psychic probe, or mind sifter, as it was sometimes called. Sometimes it was also called the Aurora Chair. The mind sifter was a hammer compared to the scalpel of a telepath. Too often, the subject would receive brain damage from such a procedure. Crude and brutal, but effective. The training used to condition Starfleet personnel against telepathic interrogations included instructions about the device.

It was a good thing that the Earth Alliance didn't have such a technology. The closest they had was the cybernet device in which the interrogator literally plugged himself into the subject's mind for mental interrogation and torture. But the interrogator ran the risk of getting a feedback into his own mind.

Sulu'd heard that, using a telepath, the cybernet device could be used in mindwipes—erasing memories and personalities, and then replacing them with false memories and personalities. The victim then could be sent off to another place to do service for either society or the government.

A perversion of justice, if ever he heard of one.

Sulu wouldn't like to know what the experience was like. In spite of the primitiveness of the Earth Alliance, humans in this universe were still quite creative and ingenious with what they had at hand.

Definitely, they had to get Kirk before he is subjected to the more creative interrogative techniques of the Earth Alliance.

"I take it that we have Captain Kirk's transponder signature on file?"

"Indeed."

Sulu nodded, satisfied at that small mercy. Upon graduation from the Academy, all Starfleet personnel had a small crystalline subcutaneous transponder surgically implanted, most often, in the forearm. If the Earthers hasn't detected and extracted the transponder from Kirk, they could still get a transporter lock on him and retrieve him.

There was another benefit of the subcutaneous transponder, discovered by Kirk and Spock on the planet Ekos. In order to escape from an Ekosian prison, a transponder was crudely extracted and, with a primitive light bulb, was used to create a short-lived laser burst to break the lock on their prison cell.

Necessity is the mother of invention, indeed.

In spite of his misgivings about the way Operation Retrieve has been adapted for the Earth Alliance, Sulu was confident that it could be successfully pulled off.

**ISN**

…_with the latest news on the continuing crisis. Xavier Montoya, head of the Mars Provisional Government, announced today that he will **not implement** the martial law renewal order given five days ago by President Clark. So far, EarthDome has had no official response to this open defiance by Mars, except to say they are considering all options._

**USS Excelsior**

"Captain, we're approaching Mars."

Sulu nodded at Lojur's report. "Decrease to one quarter impulse."

"Yes, sir," said Tiffe.

On the main viewscreen, the illusion of starlines created by light waves hitting the starship's navigational shields, slowly vanished. In the distance, they could see normal stars and a ruddy planet.

"The fleet is signaling readiness," reported Janice Rand. "The Springfield is still relaying all sensor readings to us and the fleet."

-Here it comes-, thought Sulu. "Red Alert. Battle stations. Bring us to attack posture, Mr. Akaar."

"Aye, Captain." All over the starship, lights dimmed, giving way to red alert lighting.

"Sensors show several objects in our path," said Lojur. "They are 29 meters in length and are unmanned."

Tuvok spoke up to explain the objects. "According to the Springfield's telemetry, they're orbital defense satellites. They are programmed to both defend Mars and to keep order on the planet."

Tiffe said, "I'm reading 47 of them in range of our path."

"Tactical analysis, Mr. Akaar."

"The satellites are equipped with fusion generated pulse lasers and a missile rack. The missiles are armed with conventional warheads. No shields."

"Not much power there…," commented Tiffe.

Still, they couldn't be too careful. Sulu leaned forward, feeling the tension on the bridge. "Forward shields on maximum. Lock phasers on the satellites and prepare to return fire."

On a monitor screen at the tactical station, bubbles appeared to be expanding out of a stylized model of the Excelsior, strengthening an imaginary boundary.

"Shields up," confirmed Akaar. "Phasers locked on targets."

"Ms. Rand, is the fleet in position and corresponding our actions?"

"Yes, sir."

Captain Sulu paused, studying the image of Mars in the distance. From here on in, it's either success or failure. Either war or a mere incident.

"Sir…," put in Rand, "the Springfield reports that we have activated sensor alarms throughout the system."

The captain nodded. "Full impulse. Take us straight through them."

The Excelsior ran straight through the field of defense satellites. Thin laser beams from the satellites struck its shields, lighting up small points. The starship expertly retaliated with phaser fire—a series of quick bursts, destroying the satellites with ease. Elsewhere in orbit around Mars, the other eight starships of the task force were engaged in similar actions. The tenth ship, the Springfield, hung back, still under cloak and observing.

"We are through the perimeter," reported Lojur.

Sulu, frowning, spoke quietly, almost to himself. "This is too easy."

Akaar heard it and moved to caution the captain. "We have yet to encounter any battleships. They may be ahead. If not, they will come out of hyperspace soon."

The tactical officer was right. They had to be ready for any EarthForce ship. If they knew that the intruders were Federation starships, they would be sending their most powerful vessels. "Load all torpedo bays. Ready phasers. Order the Archer to begin its patrol run around us. Begin scanning for Kirk's transponder."

"Aye, sir," complied Akaar.

Elsewhere, Sulu knew, the light cruisers like the Eagle, Saratoga and Scovil were beginning similar runs, occasionally eliminating an orbital weapons platform, while the heavier cruisers like the Endeavour, Challenger and Potemkin were intensely scanning the whole planet for Kirk's transponder signal. The task force for Operation Retrieve was functioning professionally as it should.

But it was clear that Sulu's doubts were mounting. It was too quiet here even though it was practically next door to Earth Central.

The navigator, Tiffe, said, "Approaching geostationary orbit over Lunis Planum."

Sulu was puzzled at the ease with which they were able to approach. There was still no EarthForce fleet appearing to challenge the Federation task force. A thought occurred to him.

"Mr. Lojur, scan for surface defenses."

The helmsman worked his console before reporting. "I'm not picking up any surface defenses—and there's no more orbital defenses in range of us…." The Alpha-centaurian studied his reading more closely. "Sir, I'm picking up Earth fighters moving over the surface in visual range."

Janice Rand, with a hand clasped to her earpiece, turned from her station. Worry tinged her voice. "Captain, I'm intercepting radio communications from the surface."

"Put them up."

The Excelsior's bridge crew could see a pair of fighter-bombers flying low and following the terrain of Mars. It was their first look at a new atmosphere-capable variant of the Earth starfury. They looked as if they were 20th century military aircraft with starfury wings attached. They also each had four missiles slung under their lower wings.

The voice of the lead pilot came over the speakers. _"Standing by. Weapons hot."_

Then another voice intruded, sounding panicked. It was clearly from the ground. _"Don't do it! We've got women and children down here! **Don't do it!**"_

"_Omega 1, you are cleared for drop."_

Two of the missiles under one of the fighter-bombers fired. They rocketed into the dome of a Martian city and exploded.

On the bridges of the task force, Starfleet personnel were appalled.

Appalled anger rose within Captain Sulu. These EarthForce personnel may be humans, but they were certainly nothing like the humans they knew in the Federation! These barbarians were giving the military a very bad name. They were supposed to be protecting their fellow citizens, not murdering them in cold blood! He didn't have to think about his next order. He no longer cared about possibly starting a war between the Federation and the Earth Alliance. "Order all ships in range to take out those fighters!"

Almost instantly, they could see thin phaser bolts raining down into the Martian atmosphere at various locations. The other starship captains clearly anticipated the order.

"Do we have Kirk's transponder?"

"Still scanning," said Akaar tensely.

"Fine. Keep scanning. Order all ships to begin placing orbital batteries around Mars!"

"Sir?" Janice Rand looked at Sulu with a questioning look.

"If EarthForce can't keep from abusing their own people, then we'll stop any future abuses! Any objection?"

None was forthcoming. He was glad to see that his crew agreed with his sentiments.

"Good. Launch the orbital batteries."

On every starship of the task force, except for the still cloaked Springfield, shuttle bay doors and cargo bay doors opened. Clusters of Federation orbital batteries, which every starship was loaded for staking planetary claims and for the protection of frontier worlds, spilled out. Each appeared to be a collection of six spheres attached to each other. Hidden in the center were a fusion reactor and a subspace transceiver to be used for receiving orders and for sensor reading. A movable strip on each sphere held four phaser emitters while a hole in the front middle of each sphere indicated a torpedo tube. Each sphere was protected by its own shield generator capable of taking up the burden of a neighboring disabled generator.

Tiny thrusters firing, the orbital batteries quickly moved to self-programmed positions and eliminated Earther defense satellites.

"Ms. Rand, open tachyon frequencies to all channels on the planet," ordered Sulu, still angry. "I must have words with whoever's in charge."

**MarsDome**

Governor Montoya ran with his fellow government workers. He helped them to carry heavy furniture and beams to barricade the main entrance into his office complex. He had long ago ordered the blast doors closed over the entrance and over his office window. He knew that very soon, EarthForce shock troops would be landing all over the planet, especially in the capital city. They would seize all surviving government and power centers.

Already, they could hear gunfire as troops forced their way throughout the city. A few screams were heard. Montoya exchanged a reassuring look with his secretary, Veronica.

He had been chosen by the Senate to head the Mars Provisional Government. Due to his pro-Earth stance, President Clark had left him in the post. Then just one single order from EarthDome has turned Xavier Montoya straight from patriot to traitor, and it has also turned him into a Marsie instead of an Earther.

The governor had to appreciate the irony of that.

Perhaps, if he somehow survived, he could flee into the underground or even try to barricade himself in the Pyramid Mount at Cydonia and use the alien device inside it as a hostage against Clark.

Just surviving and escaping arrest would be a very long shot, he knew.

Previously dark vidscreens suddenly lit up.

The governor and his colleagues paused and looked up, expecting an EarthForce commander to be on the screens and announcing the direct occupation of Mars. They were puzzled to see what appeared to be a middle-aged Japanese man dressed in a wine-red tunic with stylized insignias and an epaulet. He looked as angry as a righteous EarthForce commander would be.

"_I am Hikaru Sulu, Captain of the Federation starship Excelsior and commander of the Starfleet Retrieval Task Force. We are appalled at the mistreatment of Mars by the forces of the Earth Alliance President, William Morgan Clark. Normally, we would not interfere in your internal affairs, but we cannot stand by and allow the bombing of civilian targets. As of this moment, until President Clark is impeached for his abuses of the citizens of the Earth Alliance, Mars is off-limits to him."_

Montoya was amazed. This man was handing independence to the Marsies on a silver platter!

"_Until the President is removed from office for his crimes and reparations are made for the deaths he is responsible for, Federation orbital batteries will stand guard and block any military force from reaching the planet Mars. They will permit **unarmed** vessels to enter and depart Mars' space, but they **will** open fire at any armed vessel. They will not permit anyone to attempt physical contact with any of the batteries. President Clark and EarthForce, consider yourselves warned. For public consumption, allow me to transmit an important document from my government to the citizens of Mars. It is called 'The Fundamental Declarations of the Martian Colonies'. The Earth Alliance would do well to allow Mars to adopt a similar document. This is Captain Hikaru Sulu of the Federation starship Excelsior signing out."_

The Martian government officials gaped at the deactivated screens with open mouths. Even the sound of gunfire from outside had ceased. The screens then lit up once more, this time showing a page of the document this human-seeming captain spoke of. Governor Xavier Montoya knew that this day would stay in the memory of Mars, if not the Earth Alliance, for a long time to come.

**USS Excelsior**

Captain Sulu slumped into his command chair. He has done it now. Let the Federation Council, Supreme Assembly and Starfleet Command complain or agree, but he has done it.

"Sir!"

The captain turned to Commander Akaar.

"I've found the transponder signal!"

Sulu practically jumped from his chair at the news. "Where!"

Akaar hesitated only for a moment. "It's at Syria Planum."

A cold chill went through Sulu. The PsiCorps. He slammed the intercom button in his chair. "Transporter! Beam up Captain Kirk right now!"

"Captain!" shouted Akaar. "We've lost the signal!"

"Damn it! Get it back!"

Lojur blanched at what he was seeing in his console. "Sir…."

"Please don't tell me it's more bad news."

"Uh, sir…. You gotta see this." The helmsman put what he was seeing up onscreen.

Every bridge crewmate took a sharp breath at the sight.

The terrifyingly familiar visage of a huge spidery vessel seemingly made of black crude oil was on the main viewscreen. The Shadow ship was at that moment rising from beside a large glass dome on the surface of Mars.

"My…God! Why didn't we see it before?"

"Well…." Lojur was looking abashed. "We weren't looking for it, sir."

A shriek sounded in their minds as the Shadow ship cleared the Martian atmosphere. A purple beam lanced out in empty space.

An explosion bloomed from the seemingly empty void of space. A piece of a starship's saucer fell away, burning and sparking. Part of the name 'USS Springfield NCC-1936' was emblazoned on the piece.

Sulu's eyes bulged at the sight. The Shadows were capable of seeing cloaked ships!

The purple energy beam lashed out at the USS Archer. Federation shields blazed and red-lined as the Centaur-class starship tumbled out of control at the impact.

Three starships quickly made their appearance, the Soyuz-class Eagle, the Constellation-class Ahwahnee and the Akyazi-class Scovil. Their phaser cannons spoke their retaliation.

Professional training took over as the Excelsior pivoted on its axis and began to fire phasers at the Shadow in concert with the other three starships.

The black mottled bioarmor glowed red at the phaser impacts.

"Sir!" yelled Akaar. "When we hit the bioship, the sensors detected Captain Kirk's transponder on it!"

Sulu recoiled at the news. He had been about to order photon torpedoes fired to destroy the black bioship.

"Can you beam him out?"

Akaar shook his head. "Something about that bioarmor is interfering with the transporter beam. We're losing the signal again. Must be that bioarmor again."

Screaming, the Shadow pivoted and fired at the Eagle. The purple beam rammed into the Soyuz-class starship's shields, causing it to be pushed back, exposing the underside of its saucer section. Still firing, the Shadow beam quickly drained the shields in a few seconds and drilled straight through the saucer section.

"Shit!" swore Sulu. "The captain's on that bioship! We can't destroy it without killing him!"

The Potemkin's phaser arrays opened fire, drilling red-hot glowing pockmarks in the oily bioarmor. Black ochre spilled out, making it look like the Shadow ship was actually bleeding. A shriek of agony sounded again.

"Damn! Tell the Potemkin to hold its fire! All ships, cease fire!" Sulu felt like tearing his hair out. They came to rescue James Kirk only to lose him to yet another, and more dangerous, enemy. "We don't know its ability to endure our weapons! We can't afford to kill Jim!"

The Shadow lashed out once more. Again, it maintained fire at a Federation starship's shields, this time those of the USS Ahwahnee. Its shields soon collapsed and one of its four warp nacelles was sheared off. The Constellation starship fled, staggering away from the scene.

Sulu had to decide something. He had to keep himself from thinking of the pain of losing Kirk. "Jim would want us to keep him from falling under control of the Shadows. If we can't get him, then the Shadows won't have him. All ships, open fire!"

The task force arranged itself around the Shadow ship, effectively boxing it in, and prepared to shoot at it.

With a final mindscream, the bioship shimmered and faded out of sight.

Now Captain Sulu felt like beating his head on a bulkhead. The Shadow ship has phased into hyperspace, taking Captain Kirk with it!

"Sir," said Akaar quietly as if he didn't want to add more to Sulu's sudden stress. "Jumppoints forming."

On the main viewscreen, blue jumppoints bloomed open and spitted out Earth destroyers and cruisers, firing at the remains of the Federation task force.

Sulu slumped back into his chair. EarthForce had finally made their appearance, but Captain Sulu wasn't in a shape to fight it. The task force could stand and fight, but there wasn't a reason for them to stay anymore. Jim was gone. The orbital batteries were now in place and could take care of the Omega destroyers and Hyperion cruisers by themselves. There was no point in staying around anymore.

More Earth ships kept coming through the jumppoints. Soon, there would be too many for even the task force to handle. Their technology may be less than 50 years behind that of Starfleet, but number can overcome technology. The Excelsior's captain was deeply disturbed. Either EarthForce was reacting to the presence of the starships or the Shadow ship or they were cooperating with the Shadows. The last possibility was reinforced by the fact that James Kirk, a prisoner of EarthForce, was now on the vanished Shadow ship.

A quiet order came out of Sulu's suddenly tired lips. "R-retreat. All ships, retreat at warp."

One by one, Federation starships turned about and jumped to warp. The crippled Eagle was tractored by the Potemkin before the Constitution-class starship went to warp. The Scovil stayed only long enough to make sure the task force was on its way, taking potshots at the closing EarthForce ships, then quickly left a warp-flash in its wake.

Operation Retrieve has failed.

**ISN**

"…_and we've been unable at this time to determine at this time how many have been killed in the recent attacks on Mars by EarthGov forces. In this footage, EarthForce has encountered ships of the mercenary organization calling itself the United Federation of Planets hired by Martian rebels and driven them off. President Clark has announced that the attacks will continue until the Mars Provisional Government accedes to martial law. He also has announced his intention to hunt down the alien mercenaries and those responsible for hiring them will be brought to justice. So far there's been no reaction from any of the outer colonies concerning these attacks…"_

The ISN anchorwoman was suddenly interrupted when an agitated man stepped up beside her.

"_Jane, I'm sorry to jump in like this, but we have to…."_ The man sat at the anchor desk and spoke. _"The colonies at Orion 7 and Proxima 3 have just broken away from the Earth Alliance in protest over the bombing of Mars!"_

Jane was now very agitated, looking for help from the crew behind the camera. The man continued.

"_They're setting themselves up as independent states until such time as President Clark is impeached! The Federation aliens are not mercenaries, but another separate **human** government! They've stopped the bombing of Mars and set up an armed orbital blockade to keep it from happening again!"_

Jane now turned to the man, eyes wide with fear and a hand raised to touch his shoulder. _"Rick, don't do this…!"_

Rick was now talking faster and louder. _"Clark doesn't want this information released, but we have to go with this now because I don't know how much longer we can stay on the air!"_

Jane now looked paralyzed in her chair, watching her fellow anchorman continue dragging ISN into deeper trouble.

"_Armed troops have begun moving in on the ISN Broadcasting Center here in Geneva! We just saw them coming around the corner! We're trying to get a camera down there to document what's going on! I—I can hear **gunfire** now up here on the 14th floor!"_

The news crew began to scramble in a panic.

"_**Listen to me! There's information you don't have! What's been going on for the past year, we haven't been allowed to tell you!**"_

There was a blast and rubble fell onto the anchor desk. Jane and Rick now joined the news crew in trying to scramble out of danger.

"_**Everyone! Get down!**"_

Snow and static covered the scene.

**Babylon 5**

The static continued to snow on a vidscreen.

"Off."

Spock leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers with an eyebrow raised at the now dark vidscreen. Events were moving a little too fast for his taste. It would seem that the hand of the Federation would be forced. He looked at the two women in the room.

Ambassador Miranda Jones was looking grim, while Captain Areel Shaw looked aghast. Spock idly wondered how the Federation News Service would handle what InterStellar Network News had just gone through.

"Captain Shaw, you will agree that this has rendered our stance on the Prime Directive more dubious than ever before, will you not?"

Areel's eyes shifted to the Vulcan dressed in a black draped robe with silver running script in his role as the Federation Special Envoy, but the Judge Advocate General's representative remained silent.

"You will further agree that the information that Ambassador Miranda has discovered concerning the Klingons and Romulans in Narn and Centauri space reinforces that point, does it not?" Spock could see that Areel was silently calculating what he was pointing out. He had heard that the ship-less crew of the Enterprise referred to her as 'the JAG lady' as if to demean her in absentia, but he felt her to be a valuable ally due to her direct connections to Starfleet Command. If needed, he could go past her straight to Captain Kirk's sponsors, Admirals Nogura and Komack, or even to his own father, Ambassador Sarek, distasteful as that may be, but that would mean offending the sensibilities of the powerful Judge Advocate General's office. He needed to nudge Areel in the logical direction. A traitorous thought came unbidden: logical for whom?

"We are more involved than ever. This President Clark has vowed to 'hunt us down' and we are on a space station that is logically going to be a target of his forces. Ambassador Miranda here has insinuated the precepts of the Federation throughout the structure of the InterStellar Alliance. Would you deny us the chance to extricate ourselves or to lend our aid in this matter?"

Areel Shaw continued to look at Spock.

xxxxxxxx

Spock and Miranda Jones were included in a meeting. They listened as Captain Sandra Hiroshi of the Churchill revealed her bad news.

"Major, the ships receiving the attack order are _already_ on their way here! He doesn't want to risk Babylon 5 breaking away! So those ships are under orders to seize command of Babylon 5, arrest and detain its captain and the rest of the command staff, and to put this station under the direct authority of President Clark and the Night Watch!"

Sheridan reacted as if he had been punched in the guts and sat down at his desk.

Ivanova furiously said, "The other governments won't stand for it!"

Major Ryan said, "They won't intervene! All the major powers are divided, distracted, busy with their own wars. We're on our own."

Ambassador Miranda stepped forward. "Captain, may I offer the assistance of the Federation? As the Federation ambassador, I have the power to grant asylum for you."

Sheridan took a while to think over the offer. He quietly said, "I against my brother; I and my brother against our cousin; I, my brother and our cousin against the neighbors; all of us against the foreigner."

Spock raised an eyebrow at the quote while Ryan looked puzzled. "Sir?"

"A Bedouin proverb. Ambassador, this is our fight. If your ships get involved, we'd be only vindicating Clark's claims that we're being subverted by alien influences. You are the ultimate outsider. We'll lose support among the people. Thank you, but no."

The Vulcan pointed out, "That may be true. However, you do have Narns among your security forces. We have a starship crew aboard this station, one without a ship. Can they not join your security?"

A grateful nod accepted the offer. "How long until they get here?"

The question was directed at Sandra. "Six hours, top. Maybe less."

Sheridan nodded again.

"I better get back to my ship," said Ryan. "I should be there when the others arrive. If you think it would be any help, we _could_ try to jump! Maybe draw some of the fire away from Babylon 5, give you a chance to negotiate."

"No. Thank you, Major. If this is where we make our stand, then this is where we'll do it."

Ryan and Sandra accept the decision and left the office. Before leaving with Spock, Miranda said, "I'll try to get the InterStellar Alliance to send some ships."

When the two Federationers were outside the office, Spock quietly said, "Ambassador, the Alliance is fragile. Is it wise to have it go against the Earthers?"

"Perhaps not," Miranda conceded. "I've been hearing about certain subversive influences in the Alliance. A confrontation with Clark would not only help unseat the president but also forge the Alliance into a cohesive federation."

Spock made a gesture of agreement. The ambassador had lived on Vulcan for most of her life before bonding with a Medusan ambassador. As such, Miranda was one of the rare humans who had lived with logic and deserved respect from Spock and other Vulcans.

Though…he had to admit to the human need to hope that this incident would end as well as the one at Eminiar VII and Vendikar in the past.

**Hyperspace**

A task force of six EarthForce capitol ships cruised through the red murk of hyperspace. A fighter escort and two breaching pods accompanied the small fleet. On the Agrippa, Captain Dexter Smith studied the oriental face which just appeared on his vidscreen.

"_I understand why I've been drafted,"_ Laurel Takashima was saying, _"but why? You have six capital ships. Isn't that enough? Let me rephrase that: why so many for one space station?"_

Dexter also knew why Laurel was made part of the fleet. She was once a commanding officer on Babylon 5 so she would know the insides and out of the space station. She also had some experience with the Federationers so her insights would be useful for the fleet. "We don't know if some of the alien governments would interfere. They're busy with themselves, but we don't know for sure. We're going to make sure they respect our sovereignty."

"_Wouldn't that…provoke a war with some of the other governments?"_

Dexter scoffed. "Over a single space station? Naw. Like I said, they're busy with themselves. Even if the aliens fight for it, we can handle them."

Laurel raised an eyebrow. _"Why does **that** sound familiar?"_


	27. Blood of Patriots

"_The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots & tyrants."_

—Thomas Jefferson, third President of the United States of America, 1801-1809

1**USS Excelsior**

The list of casualties made Sulu wince. So many dead for one lost captain, killed by that Shadow ship at Mars. The Springfield, the Archer, the Eagle, the Ahwahnee. If there were any doubt about the Shadow threat at Starfleet Command, this incident would erase that now.

A bosun's whistle announced the activation of the ship's intercom system. _"Bridge to Captain Sulu."_

The captain activated the intercom in his office desk, recognizing Janice Rand's voice. He hoped it wasn't more problems with towing the surviving disabled ships. "What is it?"

"_Sir, Ambassador Miranda has just informed us that EarthForce is sending ships to seize Babylon 5."_

Sulu jumped up from his chair with alarm. "Red Alert! Order the fleet to go to maximum warp!"

**EAS Agrippa**

Captain Dexter Smith watched the roiling red swirl of hyperspace without seeing it. He thought it was a good thing that jumpgates were such complex and difficult machines. It took a day to power down a gate and another day to power it up. If they did somehow shut down the gate, they would be cutting off their main evacuation and escape route, which was insane. Besides, Sheridan and his ilk didn't know his force was coming. At least they shouldn't know.

Sheridan's secession from the Earth Alliance played directly into Clark's hands. The President could use the secession, and the Narn and Federation involvement, to paint a picture of an alien-supported military coup against a legitimately elected civilian government, further proof of the need for martial law, the NightWatch, and other draconian measures needed for planetary security. No doubt, that would solidify the loyalty of true humans to EarthGov, as it should be.

Perhaps Clark was right in giving NightWatch jurisdiction over all external affairs.

Dexter knew that he wasn't a perfect son of Earth, but it was enough that he knew the need to keep the Earth Alliance safe from alien influences. Neither was Sheridan, but he betrayed Earth and renounced his citizenship the moment he rebelled. Traitors and patriots. These two labels denote the difference between those who are loyal to Earth and those who spinelessly opened Earth to alien influences in the name of safeguarding Earth. The Minbari War had taught that to Captain Smith. Talks of unconstitutionality were worthless when Clark's actions were not specifically and explicitly forbidden by the Constitution and were for the good of Earth. Wasn't rebellion and secession blatantly unconstitutional?

He remembered the oath he swore when he joined EarthForce: 'I, Dexter Smith, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Earth Alliance against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the Earth Alliance and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.'

John Sheridan broke the faith and allegiance. Sheridan disobeyed the President, his Commander-in-Chief. By doing so, he broke the regulations and the military code of justice. Also, by doing so, he became an enemy of the Constitution, both foreign and domestic–domestic because he was an Earther, foreign because he dared to rebel and to use Narns and those alien Federation mercenaries against his fellow citizens. John David Sheridan, Hero of the Black Star, had a lot of explaining to do to the Senate and people of Earth, and to the appropriate military tribunal, of course.

But, as far as Dexter was concerned, they didn't need a trial to prove Sheridan's guilt.

The Agrippa's navigator spoke up, bringing Dexter out of his thoughts. "Sir, we're approaching the jumpgate."

The captain heard no emotion in the navigator's voice. Good. Everyone was still operating on military professionalism. Being emotional is always messy in these affairs. He nodded for his executive officer to begin preparing the fleet for the jump to normal space and to begin launching fighters. For now, the trial of fire that would soon erupt around Babylon 5 would have to do in lieu of a tribunal. It would be an ugly and awful affair, because it guaranteed casualties...but what war doesn't?

All too soon, the six Earth warships leapt out of the jumpgate with gunports open and fighters already launched, a mixture of starfuries and the new thunderbolts.

The Clarkist captain nodded for communications to begin broadcasting his ultimatum.

"This is Captain Dexter Smith of the Earth Alliance Destroyer Agrippa to Babylon 5 and renegade ships! You are ordered to surrender your commands and prepare to be boarded! This is your only warning! If you do not surrender, we will be forced to initiate deadly force!"

Almost immediately, a response came from Babylon 5. It was the traitor Sheridan.

"_This is Captain John Sheridan, Babylon 5. You are executing an illegal order in violation of the Earth Alliance Constitution! These orders have forced us to declare independence in order to ensure the safety of this station! We don't want a fight! But if you attempt to carry out these orders, we **will** defend ourselves."_

Captain Smith scoffed. Who did Sheridan think he was? Violation of the Earth Alliance Constitution? Rebellion and breaking the chain of command are violating the Constitution! Ensure the safety of the station? His acts of sedition were endangering the station! Sheridan may claim to not want a fight, but his actions were sure begging for a fight!

"_Come on, Captain, you **must** see these orders are **wrong**! Leave while you still can!"_

Wrong? Dexter was now mad. Wrong? While he might not be completely comfortable about attacking fellow Earthers, Sheridan was sure more in the wrong than Dexter or Clark for his blatant actions!

"Tachcomms, break contact! Furies, go on attack vector!"

The captain sat back in his command chair and watched the cloud of starfuries and thunderbolts fly out in advance of his six warships. Mixed in with the fighters was a breaching pod, designed to clamp onto an enemy's hull, cut through and deliver a boarding party.

Trial by fire, indeed.

**Raghesh 9, Centauri Republic**

"Are you sure this is necessary?"

The Centauri matron, swaddled in thick furs, looked down her nose imperiously at the nobleman. "No, Lord Trego, it is not. But we have decided."

"I-I must protest, Lady Morella! You must be tired from the trip to Raghesh 3 and you still have that goodwill visit to Brackesh 9."

Morella's eyes became as cold as the outdoors. "Seers and prophetesses are all outside government and guild control. We go where we please and answer to no one, not even the Emperor himself. Would you care to change that?"

Lord Trego shrank away from the former empress' look. He glanced out of the window to the view of the underground city in its ice cavern to avoid those imperious eyes. The look of a woman could cut deeper than a knife. He thought that the look of a queen or empress could as hard as a PPG. Out of loyalty to the late Turhan, he still had to steer Morella away from danger. Besides, Morella, as the Voice of Turhan, was almost the only way to balance out the Emperor's power. "What about Cartagia?"

Morella sniffed and looked away from him. "That child should have been exposed at birth."

The nobleman blanched at the statement.

"Now, Trego," said Morella, looking back at him. She was feeling satisfied at putting Lord Trego in his place, but she softened her tone at the nobleman. "We will go where we please. There's no need for further discussion. You have served me well, Lord Trego. Good-bye"

**USS Excelsior, en route to Epsilon Eridani**

"Long range sensors are detecting weapons fire."

Captain Hikaru Sulu tensed. Were they too late? "How many?"

The Vulcan science officer checked his long range sensors. "The space station has itself and two warships against six Earth capitol ships. I'm detecting at least two vessels the size of a shuttlecraft and an undetermined number of one-man crafts. I cannot attain clearer readings than that at this distance."

"Thank you, Ensign Tuvok." Sulu gripped the arms of his chair hard, wishing that his will was enough to push his starship to higher speeds. The fleet intended to rescue Kirk was keeping up with the Excelsior, but one ship already had to fall back due to damages to its warp coils. The damaged ships being towed by tractor beam had to stay behind in the interstellar void until this engagement was finished. Sulu was now left with a fleet of five starships. "Mr. Tiffe, what's the ETA?"

"Fifteen minutes at warp 8."

It might have been quicker if Sulu used hyperspace, but he couldn't risk exposing damaged ships and injured crewmen to the violence of that dimension. If he ordered the Excelsior to its maximum warp, he would be able to half that time. However, he would then have to allow several more starships to fall behind. The heavier cruisers like the Constitution class starships would be able to keep up, but the lighter ones didn't have that kind of power. An army, or rather a fleet, is as fast as its slowest soldier or ship. He needed all the power he could get to keep Babylon 5 from falling.

"Ms. Rand, inform all ships to stay together. Battle stations."

**Babylon 5, Brown 95**

Michael Garibaldi and his troops reached their defensive position.

"All right, take your positions! We'll cut 'em off right here!"

The armored Earthers hefted their PPG's and PPR's while the red-shirted Starfleet officers in their newly induced into the station's security set their phasers on wide dispersal fire. Mike Garibaldi could see the irony of the situation: the Starfleeters wore red shirts just as the thousand volunteers did for his Italian ancestor, Giuseppe Garibaldi. He hoped that his forces would be as successful as the Garibaldi Redshirts in the Italian Wars of Unification.

While they searched for cover, the Narns who followed them swept right through and kept on going. Garibaldi's plan to use the bottleneck to cut down the Clarkist boarders went down the drain very quickly.

"Nuts! Let's go!"

The defenders ran in pursuit of the Narns while the Starfleeters hurriedly reset their phasers to narrow fire.

Far ahead, the Clarkist boarding party had burned through the outer hull of the space station and was now blasting a hole through a wall. EarthForce marines charged through the opening. They met the onrushing Narns who stormed them, heedless of their own losses. The marines mowed down most of the Narns, but were answered with retaliatory fire from the Garibaldi's forces. PPG bursts and phaser bolts lit up the corridor and quickly died down as the Clarkists rushed the defenders for hand-to-hand combat in order to force each other to not use their energy weapons.

Up in C&C, David Corwin shouted, "Sir! There's another breaching pod coming in!"

"Hell!" Sheridan gripped the rail. There were just too many attacking Babylon 5. Already, the Alexander was taking heavy damages.

He hoped they would hold the fort.

**EAS Evanston, Hyperspace**

Captain Terrell Drake hoped he was in time for the pacification of Babylon 5. The orders from Earth Central had forced him to divert his flotilla to the Epsilon Eridani System. It was all very last-minute and there was no time to coordinate with the ships that were already on the way to the traitor space station.

Everything was becoming a mess. Mars, Orion 7 and Proxima 3 were subverted into rebelling and other colonies on the verge of giving in to alien subversion themselves. He'd heard that the extra-universal aliens had closed Mars off from Earth. Whatever was happening, Babylon 5 seemed to be at the heart of everything.

This was why Babylon 5 had to remain in Earth control and why aliens had to be cleaned out of it, and why the neutral space around the station had to become Earth territory. As a major center of trade, Earth could remain on top of things while cleansing itself of all alien influences and use it to get respect for humanity from other powers. Including those damnable interfering Federationers.

It wasn't enough that Earth had defeated the Borg which no other power like the Centauri and Minbari had done. No, humanity must show its strength and flag to everyone to gain respect in the galaxy. President Clark was just the man for that. Leaders reflect the people, and by seeing how a certain leader behaves, an entire people would be judged. Let humanity be judged through Clark and be respected for it.

"Captain, we're approaching the jumpgate."

"Very good, navigator. Order the Nimrod and Olympic to form up with us and we'll jump through."

Once through the jumpgate, they were appalled at the devastation. The Agrippa and the Roanoke were gone. Debris of fighters was everywhere. At least one rebel ship was gone and the other rebel ship looked like it wasn't in a condition to fight on.

Enraged and saddened by the sight, the captain ordered the communications officer to open a link to the space station. "This is Captain Drake to Babylon 5. You are ordered to surrender and prepare to be boarded, by order of President Clark!"

The response was quick in coming, but its content was unexpected.

"_Took your time, didn't you, Captain? This is the Earth Alliance Destroyer Ares, Laurel Takashima commanding. We have Babylon 5. Repeat, we have Babylon 5."_

Drake perked up at the message. "Repeat that, Captain. Babylon 5 has fallen?"

"_Not quite. We have boarded the station and we are meeting resistance in the Red and Blue Sectors, we've taken prisoners in the medlabs and we're trying to get into Command and Control. But with your reinforcements, it's as good as fallen."_

Terrell Drake swelled with pride at Laurel's words. It was over. Even so, he felt slightly disappointed that he wouldn't take part in the battle.

**Babylon 5, C&C**

John Sheridan could see the second wave of Clarkist ships approaching. It was over. The smell of ozone was everywhere; sparks flew from consoles which were not yet deactivated by emergency measures while smoke wafted slowly from others. Several technicians were fighting a fire near the door. Ivanova was still floating somewhere in an ejected fighter pod. Dr. Franklin and Dr. McCoy were being held in the medlabs by the boarders. Ambassador Miranda Jones and Captain Areel Shaw had taken refuge in the Alien Sector along with many other people, knowing that the boarders wouldn't risk fighting in that environment. Perhaps it was a mistake to not use Draal's help in the defense.

What about Kosh? Where was Kosh during all this? He hadn't heard a peep from the Vorlon ambassador in spite of the importance that the Vorlons seem to be attaching to Babylon 5. That was worrying.

"Where are they?"

David Corwin looked up from the pit, appearing stressed out. Sheridan hadn't meant to say that out loud, but Corwin thought he was asking about the intruders. "They're trying to break into the transport tube up to here."

"Garibaldi?"

"Unknown. Last contact was in Red Sector."

Sheridan took a deep breath. At least Delenn was safe back in Minbari space. "And the docking bay?" If that part had fallen, the Clarkists could send shuttles full of reinforcements into the station.

"Still holding. I have reports of several ships actually opening fire inside the docking bay."

The station commander grunted his approval. "Good. As long as they don't punch a hole through the hull." Then he added under his breath. "But still..." He looked up at the dark-robed Spock.

Spock arched an eyebrow, recognizing Sheridan's need for advice and seeing the similarity to Jim. "Last stands are vain, futile and wasteful. As such, they are not logical."

The wind went out of Sheridan. He knew he was beaten and that the Vulcan was right. The galaxy's best hope for victory against the night was gone. If Babylon 5 was a dream given form and the Earth Alliance had the potential to be so much more than it has become, and the two parted ways, then the dream has been severed.

No more. He wasn't about to selfishly waste more lives in fighting the Clarkists. The Alexander had announced its surrender and it was now Sheridan's turn.

"Lieutenant."

"Sir?" said Corwin.

"Order everyone to fall back to the docking bay. Seal the transport shaft. Now."

Far below the observation dome, explosive charges blew, putting the transport tubes out of commission. Sheridan could feel the controlled explosions through the deck. It was only a delaying tactic, he knew. By now, all station personnel and civilians would be making for the ships and shuttles in the docking bay. He wasn't sure that the Clarkist forces wouldn't shoot them down as they fled for the jumpgate or elsewhere, but they should have the chance to try. The captain stood taller and clasped his hands at his back.

"It is now a matter of time," Sheridan announced to the C&C crew. "The intruders will breach that door in an hour or less. I cannot, with a clear conscience, force you to sell your lives. I recommend you make a decision here and now. Stay and fight or..." His voice almost choked on the next word. "Surrender."

A heavy silence met Sheridan's words. Spock stood with him and turned to face the sealed entrance with a phaser in his hand. The Earther studied the Vulcan's impassive angular face closely.

"I thought last stands are not logical, Spock?"

"If I was human, I would say...'To hell with logic.'" Seeing a smile form on Sheridan's face, Spock added pointedly, "If I was human."

The human captain nodded with a grin. The grin quickly slipped off his face, however. He couldn't help thinking of the declining situation here. "Mr. Corwin, I think it's time for us to broadcast a distress call."

A grim response: "Yes, sir."

**USS Excelsior**

Janice Rand listened closely to the tachyon signals from all over the local sector. One particular signal attracted her attention. A voice out of the night under extreme stress. "Captain, listen to this."

"–_coming through! Repeat, they're coming through! This is Earth Alliance Station Babylon 5! Can anyone help us? This is Captain John Sheridan of Babylon 5! To any ships in Grid Epsilon, we are under attack! Defense grid is down! They're boarding us! We've tried to evacuate as many as we can, and Garibaldi has rigged the fusion reactor, but–"_ A pinging alarm began to ring, interrupting the voice. _"Oh my God! They're locking weapons! They wouldn't..."_ The tone of the alarm klaxon changed ominously._ "Oh, hell! They've got weapons lock! They're actually going to do it!"_

Sulu looked at Kruton Lojur. The helmsman looked back and shook his head slightly. The task force wasn't in range yet. Seeing this, Janice had to resist the temptation to bite her nails.

**EAS Ares**

Laurel Takashima had always wanted to go back to Babylon 5 ever since Earth Central reassigned her to the Rim. She wasn't sure why she had done the things she did when she was Commander Sinclair's deputy at the space station. Sure, the problem of being on the take at a Martian mining colony had followed her there. She was a little uneasy about being assigned to the seizure of Babylon 5, but she saw it as her chance to make amends and clean house at the station.

And now, Babylon 5 was as good as returned to the Earth Alliance's fold.

She was getting tired of the resistance that she was meeting on the station, so she ordered the remaining loyal ships to arm and lock weapons on Babylon 5. She wasn't about to shoot it out of the sky, only to shake the rebels into surrendering. If she needed to make her bluff more believable, she would shoot.

She waited. Let the rebels sweat and wonder if she would sacrifice some of her own people.

The rebels were taking too long to surrender.

"Weapons, you know the target. Fire."

The Ares' main laser cannon opened fire, slicing off one of the forward stabilizer booms at the front of the station.

Laurel nodded to herself. That should spook the rebels into surrendering right away. The boom could be repaired easily anyway.

"Sir!" shouted her executive officer, Reza Malin, in alarm.

Turning to see what was the matter, Laurel saw Reza pointing at a vidscreen. Her jaw dropped at the sight being recorded by one of the Ares' secure cams. She could see the flaring false stars that were a trademark of the Federationers' strange FTL drive. All too soon, five Federation starships were now sitting close by the space station where only a moment ago there was nothing.

A voice came over the speakers. _"This is Captain Hikaru Sulu of the Federation starship Excelsior and commander of the present Federation task force, Babylon 5 is under our protection. Stand down and vacate the premises or we will open fire."_

"No!" Her chance of redemption at Babylon 5 was slipping away. She wasn't about to let the damned interfering Feds take that chance away. Scavengers! "All ships, lock weapons on these ships!" She harshly pointed at the communications officer to open a channel to the Federationers.

"Negative. This is Earth Alliance space. _We_ have authority here! Do not force us to engage your ships!"

**USS Excelsior**

The atmosphere in the lead starship was tense. The Federationers were about to confront Earthers once more.

"This is becoming a habit," quipped Captain Sulu.

He could see the Earth destroyers and cruisers turning about to face the Starfleet task force. Since Babylon 5 appeared to be in Clarkist hands, except for a few areas where weapons fire were detected, he couldn't expect help from the station. And he was getting tired of battling stubborn people who could not defeat more advanced vessels except with superior firepower and number, both of which this Laurel Takashima didn't have. He didn't want to waste any time in this battle.

"Ensign Tuvok, do you know the Battle of Okardo?"

The dark Vulcan arched an eyebrow. "That battle was a defeat for Earth in the Romulan War."

"Yes, yes," said Sulu impatiently. "Do you know how the Romulans did it?"

A dawning comprehension came upon Tuvok's face. "Yes, Captain."

"Good." Sulu watched the Earth ships gather together to achieve the best firing solution at the Federationers. "Load three torpedoes. Time on target."

"Time on target, aye."

The Nimrod began to open fire with laser and plasma cannons at the shielded Saratoga which returned fire with phasers, scoring scorching marks on the gray armor. Sulu could see that Captain Marge Alexander was holding back the full power of her retaliation. Good.

"Fire."

**EAS Evanston**

"Captain! Energy spike!"

Terrell Drake anxiously looked at the vidscreen. He could see three flaring pulsing red stars shoot out of the largest white ship. If any of them were aimed at the Evanston, the interceptors would take them out as best as they could.

He frowned in confusion when he saw that the strange red flaring energy balls weren't aimed at any of the Earth ships.

Each of the torpedoes moved to between a pair of ships in the fleet of five Earth warships, looking as if they would keep going into the void. Were they supposed to be some kind of warning shot?

Then the Excelsior fired phasers. Not at the Earth ships, but at the torpedoes.

"What the–"

The torpedoes exploded. The shockwaves buffeted the Earth ships. Captain Drake couldn't breathe as his chair harness hugged him tightly as his Omega destroyer tumbled out of control. The lights flickered and sparks flew from computer consoles. Screams, yells and grunts sounded throughout the bridge as the noise of metal ringing and tearing.

The captain felt, rather than heard, more explosions as fighters and missiles were ripped from their mooring and tumbled around in their parts of the ship. Alarm klaxons wailed their protest.

**C&C, Babylon 5**

The surviving rebels watched in wonder as Captain Sulu managed to inflict crippling hits on five Earth warships with just three torpedoes. Sheridan, amazed and horrified, could see the flames of damages and miniature explosions lick out of four of the ships.

"The Okardo Maneuver," commented Spock impassively, ignoring the noises coming from beyond the command center's sealed door. "A Romulan captain used this method to disable two Terran ships in a war."

All Sheridan could say was "uh-huh."

Lieutenant Corwin said, "The Olympic and the Evanston are coming about for a firing solution!"

"Oh, hell! Couldn't they give up?"

"Captain! Jumppoints forming _right on top of us_!"

Sheridan's eyes widened. More deaths! "How many?"

"Four!"

Four vortices formed very close to the station. Out of them came one, two, three Minbari warcruisers and the White Star. On the bridge of the Minbari-Vorlon hybrid frigate was a grim-faced Ambassador Delenn.

"_This is Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari Federation. Babylon 5 is under our protection! Withdraw...or be destroyed!"_

Then the voice of Captain Sulu: _"Glad to see you, Ambassador."_

"_I apologize for my tardiness. Enemy vessels, you are stuck in the middle—they are in front of you, we are behind you. If you value your lives, be somewhere else!"_

The ineluctable logic of Delenn's words was crystal clear to the attacking Clarkists. Without a word and without a shot, the Evanston, the Olympic and the Nimrod turned and ran for the activated jumpgate, surviving Clarkist fighters hurrying to follow them through. The Ares and the two Clarkist Hyperion cruisers were too damaged to flee, so they tendered their surrender.

A cheer went up in the station observation dome as Sulu spoke once more. _"Captain Sulu to Babylon 5. We are beaming personnel over to help you recover the station."_

Sheridan was relieved and grateful. The fight wasn't over, but Babylon 5 would stay under his command after all. It was too close, though. He had to admit that his station had fallen. Thanks to resistance and the Federationers, the fall was not complete. Still, he was shaken by the experience. "All ships, return to base."

"Captain!" shouted Corwin. "Jumppoint forming in sector 7!"

"Are they crazy? That's practically on top of us!" A flash of blue light came through the observation window, attracting the attention of Sheridan and Spock.

"Reading one Centauri battlecruiser!" reported Corwin. When was this going to be over? Babylon 5 had become something for vultures to circle around!

The Primus-class battlecruiser came to a halt right in front of Babylon 5. The weapons on the Minbari and Federation ships quickly trained themselves onto the Centauri ship.

Sheridan was having the same thoughts as Corwin's. He added one other thought: were the Centauri insane enough to take on three Sharlin warcruisers, the White Star and five Federation starships by themselves? He rushed over to the rail around the pit. "Are they arming weapons?"

Corwin looked confused. "No, sir. All gun ports are closed. Repeat, all gun ports are closed." A beep sounded from the lieutenant's console. "Getting a signal from the Centauri cruiser. They want to talk."

Now Sheridan was confused as well. "Open a channel."

On a vidscreen, he was expecting a Centauri captain with an appropriately high hair-crest. Instead, he got the no-nonsense face of a handsome woman used to the ways of command. He was also surprised to notice that Spock looked surprised. Did he know her from somewhere?

"_I am Morella, daughter of Hudec, and widow of the divine Turhan, Emperor of the Great Centauri Republic_._ We've heard much about the...ah...the events that have been occurring here. We are looking forward to meeting you."_

"Well...," began Sheridan, flabbergasted.

"_But...we are surprised that there are armed ships targeting us."_

Was Morella being naive? The Federationers and Centauri were never on good terms. "Ah...yes, well. We've just been attacked and we're jumpy. You understand."

The majestic Centauri lady nodded once. _"We will shuttle over and our ship will leave Babylon 5 space."_ She abruptly cut the link.

"Nice lady," commented Sheridan dryly.

Spock only said, "Indeed." A faraway look was in his eyes.

**Babylon 5, Customs**

Flanked by two Royal Guardsmen, Lady Morella stepped into the Customs area. She could see injured people walking slowly around, lying on the floor or sitting on available seats. A few dead were among the injured. Morella clutched her dress with barely hidden distaste. She had never liked war, nor had her husband. The reality of war was nothing like the songs, ballads and stories told to children and young men. Blood and armor never shone as brilliantly as those shone in tapestries and paintings. She couldn't figure out why men are so easily taken in with the so-called glory of war.

Women were right to shave their heads and rise above the trappings of status, power and glory, she thought. It was an unfortunate truth that the men ruled the Republic but the women ruled the men.

Where were the Earth officials to meet her? She felt vaguely insulted. All that attention paid to the battle cruiser that brought her and nothing to her, a mere woman. Trappings of power, indeed.

Seeing an aging man in a tunic the color of dark brivari, black pants and a light green turtleneck peeking out of the tunic. From the way he handled himself around the injured and deceased and the way he ordered others carrying stretchers and tending to other people, Morella surmised that he was a doctor. She walked up to behind the human.

"Doctor."

The Starfleet doctor turned around, looking annoyed. "I told you, I'll be–" The human stopped talking and stared at her with his mouth open and eyes wide.

"Christine...?"

Morella frowned. She was sure that she had never seen this man before, but clearly he thought she was someone he knew. "We know not of whom you speak, but I am Morella, daughter of Hudec. You will take us to your leader."

The middle-aged human's face darkened. "Now look here, lady. I'm a doctor, not an escort service!"

The former empress now looked amused. "Doctor, if I'm in the mood for an escort service, we would go to Centauri Prime, Immolan 5 or Centauri Beta and certainly not for specimens available on an Earth outpost. As it is, we are here. We have need to speak with your leaders."

The doctor chuckled, delighted at the lady's sense of humor. "I'm Leonard McCoy. Some call me a doctor, though I doubt they mean it. Come along, Lady. Captains Sheridan and Spock are in the main medlab."

**Medlab 1, Babylon 5**

Doctor McCoy and Lady Morella, followed by the two Royal Guardsmen, arrived at the entrance to the main medlab. The entrance was blocked by two Narns.

"Out of the way!"

The Narns, eyeing the Centauri noblewoman, didn't move. "I apologize, Doctor. We have strict orders."

"Dammit!" said McCoy. "I'm getting a cephalalgia from this woman's bilocation! Medical attention is required!"

The two Narn guards glanced at each other uncertainly. Morella only arched an eyebrow at McCoy's 'diagnoses'. The guards stepped out of the way.

"Doctor," said Morella, "what are…. What did you say?"

McCoy winked discreetly. "I'm getting a headache from your…" The doctor then appeared serious, eyeing Morella curiously. "Your appearing to be in two places at the same time."

Lady Morella slightly shook her head, not sure if she understood and how she should take it. Questions had to wait for later. She could see three men gathered around a fourth man lying on a table in the medlab, one of them with dark skin—a uniquely, therefore exotic, human characteristic. She recognized Captain Sheridan and the pointy-eared alien she had seen earlier on her ship's vidscreen.

The humanoid alien was the first to notice her. One of his slanted eyebrows rose up his forehead as he studied her. The alien's eyes shifted to Dr. McCoy.

The doctor clearly knew what he wanted to know. "No, Spock. She's Centauri through and through."

The dark-skinned human spoke up. "Doctor, the general's not going to make it. The middle meningeal artery's all torn up and he's hemorrhaging. I can't operate. The meningeal sac is too damaged for me to risk it. Isn't there anything you could do?"

McCoy grimaced and nodded. "Understood, Doctor Franklin." He quickly stepped over to a table covered with devices that Morella had never seen before in her life and that was saying a lot. Tons of doctors had seen her late husband, some even from Minbar itself."

Selecting one of the devices, Dr. McCoy returned to the unconscious gray-bearded human and placed the flat device on his forehead. Contoured to fit the shape of the skull, the device began to beep. Morella was puzzled to see the doctor stand by and do nothing. Was the device a form of advanced euthanasia?

The human general's eyes began to flutter.

The ex-empress was amazed. So the Federationers had automated medicine. Already, she could see all of the Great Houses of the Republic scrambling to either buy or steal the technology. It was one more reason for her regret of the path that the Republic was going down.

Sheridan said, "General? General Hague? How're you feeling?"

With a soft moan, the general said, "Like all the elephants in Africa had just held a tap dancing contest and they're holding the finals in my head."

"He's all right," said Dr. Franklin with a relieved chuckle.

General William Hague raised his head and looked around. "Status?"

"We're fine now," reported Sheridan. "Clark threw nine warships at us but they were repelled. Thank God for the Minbari and the Federation."

Hague dropped back onto his bed and grinned. "Never thought I'd hear those words from a human. Where's Major Ryan?"

Expressions of sadness came upon human faces. "Uh, the major died. The Ares scored a direct hit on the Alexander's bridge."

The general nodded, accepting the fact. "I know the captain. Laurel Takashima."

Spock said, "We beamed her into the brig on the Excelsior."

"I don't know this 'beaming', but it sounds all right." Looking directly at Lady Morella, Hague wondered aloud, "Did the Centauri help out?"

"No, sir," said Sheridan. Facing the lady directly, he demanded to know why she was here and why did she come in a battlecruiser.

Morella gave the Earther captain a withering look. "Captain, we knew that your situation calls for security. I am a Lady of the Royal Court and a widow of an emperor. Killing me, even by accident, would have started a war with Centauri Prime."

"But we're supposed to be allies!" sputtered General Hague.

The withering look shifted to the general, this time with a disdainful sniff. "The alliance between Earth and Centauri Prime was _never_ my husband's plan for our people! He came to try to prevent the insanity he knew was coming. Instead…his death became the door through which all this pain has entered!"

"Your husband," Sheridan said placatingly, "was a great man. I was honored to know him."

"Yes. Yes, he was. But greatness is never appreciated in youth, called pride in mid-life, dismissed in old age and reconsidered in death. Because we cannot tolerate greatness in our midst, we do all we can to destroy it. You would do well to remember this, Captain Sheridan." Morella sighed before adding, "We are wasting time. You. You're called Spock, are you not?"

"Yes."

"We are pleased to meet you." She held out a limp hand.

Spock hesitated. As a Vulcan, he was not fond of physical contact except with close friends and lovers. He grasped Morella's proffered hand.

Morella took a quick sharp breath and closed her eyes at the physical contact.

_A dead barren gray planet hung in space. Then a missile-like cylindrical object quickly flew at the planet. A massive fiery explosion fountained at the night side of the gray ball, converting itself into an expanding fire which quickly engulfed the entire world, turning night into day, even briefly making the planet look like a weakly burning sun. The fire faded. A blue-hued atmosphere slowly appeared on the dead world and bodies of water grew among the mountains and craters. Greenery reached out from the water to cover the land while snow appeared on high mountains. Soon, the gray dead barren planet became a living, breathing world very much like Centauri Prime._

_One word: "Genesis."_

Lady Morella's eyes flew open in shock. By all the 60 gods! The vision told her that the Federation had the power to create entire worlds, that it had harnessed the might of the Great Maker with its technological prowess! And this pointy-eared alien represented that power.

"Are you all right?" Dr. Franklin was already moving toward her. Spock jerked his hand back as if he had just touched a hot stove. Was he sensitive enough to know that something has happened?

Waving off the Earther's concern, she said, "Spock, when you are finished here, come see me in my quarters." With that, Lady Morella left the medlab.

"Like I said," quipped Sheridan, "Nice lady."

"Indeed."

**USS Excelsior**

Laurel Takashima hugged herself, shivering and slowly rocking back and forth. Her chance of redemption gone. Being taken apart on the quantum level, teleported and put back together like an alien version of Humpty Dumpty. Being imprisoned in a cell that appeared to be open to escape but was actually sealed by some kind of energy field.

She had tried to walk out when the red-uniformed guard left. The only warning she got was a feeling of static electricity making her skin tingle and her hair stand on end just before contact. The energy field had hummed and hissed, knocking her backward and leaving her feeling like she hit the funny bone in her elbow except it was all over her body.

If this unusually comfortable prison cell was this advanced, she didn't want to know what method of interrogation and torture the Feds employed. Would they use telepaths?

Perhaps she preferred telepaths to whatever advanced alien devices they might use on her.

The door to the detention center slid open. She tensed and stood up. Captain Sulu stepped through, flanked by a guard, and faced Laurel through the energy field. His face was grim.

"Captain Laurel Takashima. Are you comfortable in there?"

Should she say yes or no? Was this a preliminary test question? Was this the beginning of the interrogation? Why hadn't they dragged her out and pushed her into a chair first? Her eyes widened as a thought came to her. Did they have the ability to use various forms of gas for interrogation in this sealed cell? She decided to be honest and accept what may come.

"Yes and no. The bunk's good, the water and food dispenser's good. I don't like being in here, though."

Sulu nodded. It was a fact. "The Prime Directive forbids us to hold prisoners of a foreign power guilty of crimes against that power. It requires us to turn you over to Babylon 5. But Captain Sheridan is generous. You have a choice: stay here or go sit in a cell there. If you stay, we could move you to a more comfortable quarter and remain under house arrest there."

Laurel stared at Sulu. She knew that after this debacle, EarthDome would either send a large armada against the rebel space station and the Feds or agents provocateurs, assassins and saboteurs. If she were to stay on this starship, she would be out of reach of Earth and possible taken farther away when trouble comes. If she were to stay on Babylon 5, she would be within reach of Earth but exposed to the dangers of sabotage and battle. She also knew that Earth wouldn't be too happy with her performance here. She must get her freedom somehow. She had to test this Sulu.

"Can I decide later?"

The captain nodded. "I understand."

Weak. In spite of their marvelous technology and powerful ships, the Feds were weak. "Mark my word, Sulu. When EarthDome finds out about this, you will find yourself at war with the Earth Alliance."

A humorless half-smile: "Captain, after what we saw and did at Mars and Babylon 5, good relations with your government is the farthest thing from the Federation's mind." With that, he turned away from Laurel and walked out of the detention center.

Suddenly feeling weak, Laurel fell back on her bunk. Did things just suddenly blow up in the Earth Alliance's face? She hoped not.

**Babylon 5**

The door chirped for attention.

"Come," commanded Morella.

Captain Spock entered her quarters. The Centauri noblewoman had him seated on her couch. He knew that because of the odd mental contact in the medlab, Morella would be curious about him. She was hiding it well, but he could see it in her eyes. The Vulcan was determined not to let her touch him.

An experienced player of the Great Game played by Centauri noble houses where everyone had a hidden motive, every word had a hidden meaning and every action is believed to be a move to gain more power and strength, Morella could see that Spock didn't want to be touched in any way. She accepted this and began without preamble.

"What we are about to say is for your ears only, Captain Spock. We will not repeat it to anyone else and suggest you do the same. If it comes out, we will deny this conversation ever took place."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "Intriguing. If I may ask, why do you speak in the plural?"

Morella said, "You do not know, of course. I forgive your ignorance. When the Emperor dies, it is custom for the royal consort to assume the spirit of her husband. Though the power has passed on to Emperor Cartagia, I speak for Turhan from the other side."

"Fascinating." He thought it was interesting, if slightly macabre. But then, it was presumed on Vulcan that specially selected priests spoke for great persons like Surak, Kiri-kin-tha and T'Plana-Hath.

"There is another thing that you may not know, Spock. It is not widely circulated, but I am a prophetess and a seer."

Spock wasn't sure what to make of that.

"You are someone who has been given second chances by the universe many times. You've even experienced death and resurrection. I can see that you are tied to the Pattern, the collection of events and lives woven to create history, universes and possibilities. You are a focus of the Pattern, something to which very few people in the entirety of history could lay claim. You are not supposed to be in this universe, which is why I am here."

"Truly?" Spock was only being polite. Again, he wasn't sure about Morella. Though, how did she know about his death and resurrection at the Genesis Planet?

"You are not supposed to be in this universe," Morella said again. "You must reunite your people or the stars will be rent in blood and fire. You must beware the man who remembers Surak's face." Sympathy softened her eyes. "If you would have your friend live, he must die."

"I…," Spock, frowning, whispered audibly, "do not understand."

"The future reveals itself only reluctantly, Captain. Take the sign for what it is. _Look_ for it when it appears!"

Spock repeated what she said in his mind, memorizing it for later analysis. Was the friend she mentioned Jim? He felt uneasy about that one. "Are you speaking as a…prophetess?"

Morella could see the skepticism in Spock. "Among the Centauri, prophecies are believed and heeded, since they tell as much of what was as of what will be." She stood up, clearly ending the session.

Spock stood and thanked her. He was feeling confused and puzzled, something that was rare for the Vulcan man.

He didn't like that. He hoped it wouldn't happen to him frequently.

xxxxxxxx

"General Hague," Sheridan said, shaking hands with the tall man with the peppering close-trimmed beard. The Earther captain was out of his uniform. His conscience wouldn't allow him to wear it again until Earth's democracy has been restored. "It's good to see you up and walking, sir."

"A damn fine space station you have here, Captain Sheridan. Your people's performance was superb. You should be proud."

Sheridan looked around at his office, seeing Ivanova and Sulu. "I am. Proud of what we did, but not of the reason we had to do it." He paused to let that sink in. "You would be proud of Major Ryan, General."

"I am." Hague appeared sad for a while and then went back to his professional self. "As soon as I get back on the Alexander, we jump. We're both targets now. If we split up, it'll give them less incentive to concentrate their fire here. And there are still some ships out there who've signed on with us. We have to find them. Earth's in danger. Maybe the greatest danger since the last world war. Something has to be done about Clark." He looked at Sulu, nodding at the Starfleet captain. "Hopefully, with the help of the Federation, it'll be a little easier."

"I can't speak for the Federation Council and Starfleet Command," countered Sulu, "but I will do what I can to help."

"You have my gratitude, Captain Sulu."

"By the way, Captain," said Sulu, "did you really rig your reactor? We didn't detect any drastic change in the station's power reading."

Sheridan shrugged casually. "A bluff. I was hoping it would spook them away. Guess it didn't work." Seeing Sulu understand, he turned to Hague.

"Good luck, General." The station commander led the way out of his office. "I don't know how long we can hold the fort here, but as long as we can, you're welcome here!"

"Thank you."

As they walked down the corridor, they could see a NightWatch propaganda poster with a ragged strip torn out of the middle. It was clear that the poster used to say 'TRAITORS CAN'T HIDE'.

Sheridan, Hague and Ivanova expressionlessly exchanged glances while Sulu thinned his lips in sympathy. The poster was a reminder that victory still needed to be won.

"_The human nations break and bend knee to the Shadows_

_Amid the wailing of lamentations and the gnashing of teeth,_

_The hidden fires swell, and serpents nestle in the bosom._

_Storms rumble from the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the stars._

_What was exalted is cast down; what was cast down is raised up._

_Order burns to clear the path of the Light._

_Blood feeds blood._

_Blood calls blood._

_Blood is, blood was, and blood shall ever be._

_There is no hope without destruction,_

_For order rides a black horse,_

_And the name of it is Death._

_Death shall sow, and the fires burn._

_Death shall reap, and bodies fail._

_The children slays ancient quarrel."_

(From a much-disputed Tee'la poem by Shaal Mayan of Minbar, believed to have been published at the height of the Great War)

home song–a form of Minbari poetry that attempt to recall old memories and prompt new ideas –Encyclopedia Xenobiologica by Voltayre, Technomage, txt entry 2242.10272.X432.77


	28. Republic of Dreams

The area around Babylon 5 was being cleaned up. Maintbots went into the more dangerous and irradiated areas, moving their arms, while shuttles searched through the debris for survivors. Occasionally, the glow of the Federation transporter effect appeared here and there, rescuing survivors or bodies. Five Federation starships stood guard over an Earth Omega-class destroyer and two Hyperion-class cruisers, while three other starships maintained their positions between the space station and Epsilon 3. Damages from the battle at Mars could be seen on them: black scorch marks, a missing warp nacelle and a large gaping hole through a saucer section.

On Babylon 5, in the viewing rotunda, Captain Sulu was studying the scene. Soon, there wouldn't be any sign that a battle occurred here. His eyes drifted to the damaged starships and the warships formerly under control of Clark loyalists. Except for those, of course.

"Excuse me, Captain Sulu."

Sulu turned at the voice. It was the Minbari ambassador. "Ambassador Delenn."

She bowed and said, "A captain from one of our warships has asked for a tour of the station. It seems fair to let them see what they have saved. Fleet Captain Lennan has expressed his interest in meeting you."

For the first time since the ordeal began, Sulu smiled. "I'm glad to see that I'm a tourist attraction. Sure, I'd like to meet him."

Delenn appreciated Sulu's humor as she bowed once more and stepped aside from the entrance. A Minbari dressed in a Religious Caste robe came through the entrance, accompanied by two aides. He bowed and introduced himself. "Shai Alyt Lennan."

The Federation captain executed a bow that his parents would be proud of. "Captain Hikaru Sulu." A thought occurred to him.

"Please pardon my curiosity, but aren't Minbari warships supposed to be commanded by the Warrior Caste?"

Lennan said, "The Warrior Caste is indeed dedicated to the defense of Minbar, but Valen's Covenant requires each caste to control one-third of the military. This is to prevent any one caste from overpowering the others. As a courtesy, all of our warships are commanded by Warriors. Only a courtesy."

Sulu pointedly looked at the religious robes worn by the Minbari captain and his aides. "What changed?"

The Minbari captain's face darkened. "Do not concern yourself with matters that should stay between Minbari."

Delenn hurried to stave off any bad feeling. "It is a Minbari matter. The courtesy has largely fallen out of practice when the Grey Council was…." The ambassador shifted uncomfortably. "…dissolved."

"Dissolved?" Sulu was surprised.

Lennan and Delenn glanced at each other. "It had to be done," she said carefully. "Otherwise, we wouldn't make ourselves available for Babylon 5's defense."

"I…see." The Federation captain frowned worriedly. "So…if the Grey Council has been dissolved, the courtesy has fallen out of practice, as you say…. Wouldn't that mean this 'Valen's Covenant' no longer holds?"

"It still holds," retorted Lennan hurriedly.

An uncomfortable silence reigned in the rotunda. And then:

"I have heard much about you and your ships," said Lennan quietly in a friendly vein, as if the prior conversation never took place. "A visit would be most interesting and enlightening."

Glad to have the discomfort out of the way, Sulu nodded. Mentally, he was kicking himself for stumbling into a potential minefield. If he was to be a good starship captain, he had to polish up his diplomatic skills. "That can be arranged."

"I'm curious." Lennan stepped over to the windows to look up at the damaged starships hanging in the distance. "How did your ships come to be damaged? From all accounts, the Earther military couldn't hope to seriously wound you."

The human glanced at Delenn who nodded slightly. It's all right to talk with Lennan, she was saying. "Well, Shai Alyt, we encountered a ship belonging to what you call the Shadows."

"Shadows!" gasped Lennan. He looked up at the damaged starships with wonder. He whispered, "And you survived…?" His respect for the Federationers raised several notches.

"I wouldn't say we survived." Sulu said with an undercurrent of anger. "Many of us died. The Springfield was destroyed with all hands. Half the crew on the Eagle died when they drilled a hole through it."

The Minbari captain nodded. "But you've managed to live and tell the tale. Very few ever have that luck when meeting the Shadows." His eyes flicked over to Delenn before he continued. "I am now much more interested in a tour of your ships."

A new voice intruded on the gathering. "That will be arranged."

Areel Shaw limped into the Rotunda. She sported a sling holding an arm and a brace around an ankle. "I'm Areel Shaw, a Captain of the Starfleet Judge Advocate General. I'm sorry I can't shake your hand, Captain Lennan."

"I understand. Thank you. I will be eagerly awaiting an invitation to any of your ships." Sensing Areel's need to be alone with Sulu, Lennan said, "Ambassador Delenn, shall we continue the tour of Babylon 5?"

Delenn bowed to the two Federationers. "Sulu. Areel."

Once they were alone, Sulu said, "Are you all right, Captain?"

The blonde woman waved a hand dismissing Sulu's concerns. "Just a side effect of being in the middle of a frightened mob."

"Ah."

"Anyway, I have a message from Starfleet Command. All bridge officers are to report in the Officers' Lounge on the Excelsior."

Captain Sulu became concerned and a little nervous. "Is it any good?"

Giving no hint of her thoughts on her face, Areel said, "You'll find out soon enough."

xxxxxxx

A beeping sound from the Babcom unit woke Citizen G'Kar. Annoyed, he got up and quickly put on his nightgown. "What is it?"

The image of Warleader Vin'Tok came up. _"Hello, old friend."_

"Vin'Tok!" G'Kar was surprised. It had been a long time since last he heard from the warleader. Then he became concerned. "Is this a secure channel?"

A short chuckle: _"This channel is in subspace and it is secure. The only people who can intercept the signal are from the other universe."_

G'Kar was delighted. It appeared that the alliance with the Klingons was a very productive one. "What news?"

"_Our base at Quinlat has been very useful. The Centauri do not know where it is. There's no mapped hyperspace route to the system. The Klingons claim that the planet is like their homeworld in the other universe. Apparently, the name Quinlat comes from one of their legends."_

G'Kar had to appreciate the irony. A Klingon homeworld used against a people who came from a homeworld that's also like the Klingon homeworld. It was a little confusing, but it showed how the universe worked in mysterious ways. Then he saw that Vin'Tok looked worried.

"That's not why you contacted me, is it?"

"_No. We have information that the Centauri are sending a ship to Narn. It's carrying the new Centauri viceroy of Narn and some kind of weapon of mass destruction. We don't know exactly, but it certainly won't be beneficial for our people."_ The warleader took a deep breath. _"We're sending ships to intercept them at Narn."_

"But Narn is a fortress now! We have very few free Narn ships left!"

"_I know. Our plan is to jump in, destroy the ship and then jump out. Killing the viceroy would set the Centauri government of Narn back for a long time. It will send a message to everyone that the Narn people are not defeated. The _G'Tok_ and the _Tequera an Fol_ are on the way. The Klingon ship _Ki'tang_ is with them."_ Vin'Tok looked straight into G'Kar's eyes. _"That weapon…. Rumors of it are very troubling."_

"Do we know what it is?"

"_I don't know, Citizen G'Kar. I don't know."_

**Hyperspace**

Two Centauri Vorchan attack cruisers escorted a Primus-class battlecruiser and its deadly cargo through the dangerous murkiness of hyperspace.

**USS Excelsior**

The Officers' Lounge was a crowded with captains and their commanders from the surviving starships of the Operation Retrieve task force. A few were newly promoted to fill out positions left by dead officers. Babylon 5 and the star of Epsilon Eridani could be seen through the panoramic windows. Areel Shaw entered the lounge and stood in front of the gathering. She began with preamble.

"Starfleet Command has received the reports of Operation Retrieve. Its failure at Mars and later interference in Earth Alliance internal affairs has alarmed the admiralty and the Federation Council. It has prompted President Ra-ghoratreii to announce his displeasure at our participation in this universe."

A murmur rose among the officers. It was rare for any Federation president to comment on the conduct of Starfleet in public.

"However, the President agrees that since we are already involved here, we must do the best we can about this universe. The Operation Retrieve task force will stay here."

More murmurs, this time of surprise and curiosity.

"Those ships that are heavily damaged, such as the Eagle and the Ahwahnee, will go to Starbase 10 for repairs. The Endeavour will escort them."

"What about the Archer?" asked the captain of that ship.

"The shield generators are burnt out, aren't they? They can be repaired with the supplies from across the fleet." Areel turned her eyes to Scotty. "Can they?"

"Aye, Ma'am." His jowls trembled as he shook his head proudly. "Do ye nae know we have the finest engineers gathered here?"

"Good."

"Well, it should be! Besides, amn't I here?"

"Not for long," Areel said without any expression.

Not a few officers, including Scotty, appeared warily puzzled.

"Starfleet Command agrees that the task force can stay here." She raised a finger. "Provided that the crew of the Enterprise agrees to be reassigned elsewhere in the Federation. Especially the bridge officers."

"I protest!" cried Scotty.

"What new madness is this!" McCoy added to other voices of discontent.

Areel merely looked at those who voiced their objections. "Objections duly noted. Starfleet has come to the conclusion that the crew of the Enterprise has become too big a target for various hostile parties for the Federation to have a smooth conduct here. I'm sorry. It's a political expediency."

McCoy spluttered, "What about those who've joined Babylon 5 Security?"

"As for them, when they joined, they have effectively resigned from Starfleet. Unless they quit, Starfleet doesn't see them as members of Starfleet." Adding to mollify the new discontented murmurs from the officers, Areel said, "However, they are still Federation citizens with all the rights and privileges."

"Unbelievable!" Scotty's jowls shook again, this time in anger.

"Yes! Something's fishy back home!" piped McCoy.

Montgomery Scott spluttered for a while before saying, "I donnae accept! Kirk was the best of us! We lost him! I'm not leaving without him!" He wrenched the Starfleet badge off of his uniform. "If Starfleet cannae appreciate him and donnae want him back, I donnae want Starfleet!" With that, he threw the gold badge down at Areel's feet. Scotty, formerly of Starfleet, turned and left the lounge.

The gathered officers exchanged glances and expressed their discomfort and surprise.

Areel shook her head with disappointment. "Anyone else?"

Dr. McCoy felt compelled to follow Scotty's example, but he stopped when he felt Spock's fingers on his arm.

"Captain Shaw," said Spock. "Where will we be reassigned?"

"You, Captain Spock, will be promoted to Admiral. You know our concerns."

Spock nodded, knowing that she was referring to the Romulans.

"Doctor McCoy will be assigned to Earth. It's likely he will be head of Starfleet Medical. Commander Uhura will be in Starfleet Intelligence. Commander Cheko—"

"My God!" interrupted McCoy. "It's a bribe!"

Areel ignored the outburst. "Commander Chekov will be assigned to the Excelsior as the executive officer."

Spock nodded slowly. "That is acceptable."

"Spock, you can't be thinking—!"

"Doctor," Spock said calmly. "It is logical. We were supposed to retire upon the Enterprise's return to Earth after the incident at Khitomer. Staying here will only delay our natural course of action. Captain Kirk was a good friend, but we are needed in our universe." In his mind, he heard Lady Morella speaking again. _"You are not supposed to be in this universe. You must reunite your people or the stars will be rent in blood and fire."_ Spock understood the second sentence to be about the Vulcans and Romulans. As yet, he didn't understand the other statements:_ "You must beware the man who remembers Surak's face. If you would have your friend live, he must die."_

"Et tu, Spock?" muttered McCoy.

Areel said, "Captain Spock is right. Besides, if you refuse, it's possible that you will be charged with mutiny. I know that none of us wants a court-martial. If that happens, Starfleet will be forced to withdraw all personnel and material from this universe."

McCoy fumed. But he didn't protest anymore.

The judiciary captain nodded. "It's settled. Meeting's adjourned."

Before the lounge emptied itself of the officers, a woman with a captain's insignias approached the remaining Enterprise bridge officers.

"I guess congratulations are in order."

Spock nodded his thanks while McCoy glared at him. Uhura bit her lower lip and looked like she wanted to wring her hands. Chekov looked away at the windows, avoiding other people's glances. Sulu moved to break the awkward silence.

"Captain Midge Alexander, I have to thank you."

The female captain of African descent looked amused and puzzled. "Why's that?"

"Your ship, the Saratoga, didn't use all of its power against the EarthForce ships during the battle with Clark's forces. You allowed us to spare as many lives as possible."

Midge shrugged. "I can't take all the credit. It was my Efrosian helmsman, Ramus. I'll convey your appreciation to him."

Sulu smiled. He liked this captain. Clearly, she wasn't one of those captains who would gladly accept all credit given, thereby advancing themselves toward the admiralty.

"Look!"

Those who were still in the lounge turned at Chekov's loud voice. He was pointing through the windows at Babylon 5.

Through the windows, they could see burial torpedoes flying forth from Babylon 5's docking ring in a train. A squadron of starfuries flew above the coffins in a V formation, escorting them on their course to the star of Epsilon Eridani. The fighter on the leader's right broke upwards, leaving the squadron in the traditional 'missing man' formation.

Respectfully, the officers stood in silence, watching the funeral convoy vanish into the blazing brightness of Epsilon Eridani.

Sulu noticed that Midge Alexander squared her shoulders and raised her chin at the scene as if she took the funeral's reminder of her crew's mortality as a challenge. He felt like agreeing. This universe seemed to have a very small supply of mercy.

**Babylon 5**

A Centauri transport entered the newly independent space station's docking bay.

Ambassador Londo Mollari shook his head as he walked down the corridor from the docking bay. Madness! What was Sheridan thinking? What was Earth thinking? Humans shooting at each other and killing each other! Declaring martial law and forcing Sheridan's hand! Now Earth has lost Babylon 5. But without Earth, what could Babylon 5 do to support itself?

To top it all, he had been planning to call in favors to bring Lady Morella to Babylon 5. Now that plan has literally been shot. If the humans were Centauri, they would have tempted Sheridan with a seat in the Centaurum, then moved to eliminate his power base, possibly even his life.

Humans!

By virtue of his identicard, Londo gained entrance into Babylon 5 proper. He stopped suddenly, causing a man to bump into him from behind. The ambassador gaped at what caused him to stop: Lady Morella, flanked by two Royal Guardsmen, conversing with Ambassador Miranda Jones as if they were old friends.

Seeing Londo, Morella excused herself from Miranda and called out for the Centauri ambassador.

"Ambassador Mollari!"

Opening and closing his mouth, Londo shook himself from his surprise and moved quickly to kiss her hand.

"We are pleased to meet you, Ambassador."

"No, Great Lady, the honor is mine. But…what are you doing here?"

Morella looked as if Londo had just suggested she had accidentally walked into a strip joint. "I go where we please. What more can we do?"

Londo became a little nervous. Had something happened to warrant her attention to this station and to himself? "The Earthers are…distracted. I am glad to see that Centauri Prime has seen how beneficial our agreement with Earth is. It will—"

"The Earthers, as you say, are distracted. They have problems of their own. This alliance was _never_ my husband's plan for our people! He came to try and prevent the insanity he knew was coming. Instead…his death became the door through which all this pain has entered!"

Londo stood silently. He knew that she was right. He had chosen to use the Emperor's death, and Morden's associates, to propel the Centauri Republic to the current greatness.

Now Lady Morella looked as if she smelled something bad. "And now Cartagia is being used to further the pain!"

"Ah…. Lady…."

The Centauri lady shook her head, almost showing her disgust. "Did you know, Mollari, that Cartagia recently had a hand in the death of Lord Refa's sister?"

He pressed his lips together, looking down away from Morella's eyes.

"She was taking a bath in one of the palace steamrooms," Morella was saying. "Somehow, Cartagia thought that no one was in it so he locked it and turned up the temperature for self-cleaning. The unfortunate lady was either cooked to death or suffocated in the steam."

All Londo could do was to feel sick.

Morella gazed up at Londo with some sadness. "Those who would use Cartagia will learn the error—either too late or in time. Not much of a choice, but it's a choice."

The two stared at each other. Then, seizing the unexpected opportunity, Londo stepped close to Lady Morella, causing the guardsmen to step closer warningly. The Imperial widow merely stood silently and impassively. He earnestly said, "I need you to see for me."

Lady Morella was surprised.

"I believe I have been touched," Londo said, "that I am meant for something greater. A greater darkness or greater good, I can no longer say. All I have ever wanted is to serve our people! I need to see what is before me, if I should escape it or embrace it, if there is any longer a choice."

"There is always choice. We say there is no choice only to comfort ourselves with a decision we have already made. Now, if you understand that, there is hope! If not—" Morella paused. Her mind had, without her bidding, summoned up the word Genesis. For the briefest of moments, she saw again the Federation ability to totally remake worlds. She shuddered and came to a decision. "I will honor your request, Mollari. Before I leave here, you will have your reading."

xxxxxxx

Scotty shook hands with Dr. McCoy. He was trying to keep himself from gushing with emotion. "I'm sorry it came to this, laddies."

Sulu said, "You sure about this?"

"Sure! Screw Starfleet."

Uhura stifled a sob.

"I cannot say I agree," said Spock. "Emotion is clouding your judgment."

The Scotsman shrugged dismissively. "What can I say? It was real nice of Ambassador Delenn to give me this job. It's a great opportunity!"

Chekov sadly nodded. "I hope it is for you."

"_Transport B-4 now boarding. Transport B-4 now boarding."_

"Ach, that's my ship. I must go."

Spock was touched by Scotty's loyalty to his friend Jim, if overly emotional. He raised his hand and parted fingers. "Peace and long life."

"Farewell, me friends." With that, Montgomery Scott, formerly of Starfleet, picked up his bag, turned and joined the line of people moving through a terminal gate. The transport would take the former chief engineer to Minbar.

xxxxxxx

Lady Morella waited for the transport tube to arrive. She thought of the vision she got when she touched Vir Cotto at a party in the Royal Palace, and of the vision that came from Spock. Perhaps this was the universe's way of telling her that Creation and Apocalypse were merely two faces of the same coin, that there is no shadow without a light. A reading of Londo would help clarify some things.

The tube door opened. Morella and her guardsmen stepped into the tube. G'Kar was already inside. He grinned sweetly at her.

"Ah! You're Turhan's widow, aren't you?"

Imperiously, she looked over at the former Narn ambassador. "Yes."

"Is it not true that though the power has passed to Cartagia, you speak for Turhan from the other side? And that you are outside the control of the Emperor and his government?"

"Yes…," Morella said impatiently.

"Just one more thing: Turhan wanted to apologize for all the things that your people and his family had done to Narn. I believe he said, 'We were wrong. The hatred between our people can never end until someone is willing to say 'I'm sorry,' and try to find a way to make things right again, to atone for our actions.' Did he truly feel that way?"

Frostily, she said, "He did. Is there any point to this?"

G'Kar's smile turned vicious. "Then why didn't you try and stop your government and the war with my people?" The Narn trembled with anger and hatred. The Centauri guardsmen moved close to Morella protectively. "So many of my people are dead. My world destroyed! Because no one was willing to stand and stop the Centauri! You had the power to use Turhan's spirit to do this and you didn't! You're a coward!"

Lady Morella pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes poisonously. She shook her head with pity. "Is hatred all you have?" With that, she looked away and pretended that G'Kar wasn't there.

xxxxxxx

The doorchime of Delenn's quarters rang. The Minbari ambassador opened the door.

Marcus Cole came though the door without waiting for Delenn's permission. The only way he would be so rude is if he was bearing bad news. She tensed.

"Delenn, a Sharlin is missing. The Warrior Caste is trying to keep it quiet, but we have managed to figure out that unknown aliens have attacked it."

A hand slowly went up to Delenn's throat. No alien race would dare assault the Minbari, not since the Earth-Minbari War. No alien race except the Shadows, that is. With wide anxious eyes, she asked, "Was it…destroyed?"

Marcus shook his head. "It's not the Shadows, if that's what you mean. The ship was captured. Apparently, the aliens used a stolen transport to board it. Ships have been sent to retrieve it."

"Captured…?" Delenn was confused. And a little frightened, she had to admit. "Shadows do not capture ships. They destroy them. Who could have done this and succeeded…?"

For answer, Marcus could only shrug.

**Near the Minbari-Centauri border**

Two Minbari Tinashi-class frigates were chasing a fleeing Sharlin warcruiser. A neutron beam reached out to cut off the hijacked Sharlin's main rear fin. The blue-emerald beam splashed against an energy shield protecting the larger warcruiser.

In the tactical center of the warcruiser, the hijackers saw this attack only as a bright beam reaching out from one of the Tinashi's directly at them. Two Minbari warriors lay dead on the floor. One of the hijackers looked down at a tricorder which was connected by a cable to an open panel on the floor in the darkness.

"Major, aft shields are down to 64 percent."

The major scowled at the pursuing Minbari ships. "We can't afford losing this ship. It would be a great boon for the Tal'Shiar and the Romulan Empire." She frowned as another beam struck the shields. "Federation technology. They keep harping on the sanctity of their precious Prime Directive and here we have evidence that the Federation is violating their premier law. What's the status of the hyperdrive?"

The Romulan agent consulted his tricorder. "Power's up to 86 percent. Not enough to open a jumppoint."

"Veruul!" swore the Tal'Shiar major. "Turn the ship around; channel all non-essential power into the weapons. Bleed some power off the life support."

On the holodisplay, the stars spun around the warcruiser, slowly at first, then quickly before finally slowing down. The two Romulans had to turn around to see the pursuers. Seeing that the Sharlin had turned about and slowed down, but still moving away from the pursuers under its own momentum, one of the Tinashi's fired with as much power as it could throw.

The Romulans struggled to stand as the warcruiser shuddered under the impact. "Forward shields down to 79 percent," said the tricorder-holding Romulan helpfully.

The major pointed at the offending Tinashi. "Fire!"

Four emerald-blue beams lashed out at it, drilling into its shields, causing it to eventually collapse. An explosion bloomed out of a long side of the Tinashi. The Minbari war frigate slowed down, falling behind.

The other Tinashi threw its revenge at the still-backing Sharlin.

"Forward shields down to 47 percent. They will collapse at another similar shot."

The Tal'Shiar major drew herself up, preparing to meet death with honor.

Space near the two battling ships rippled. A Romulan R'Derex-class warbird decloaked and opened fire with a spread of plasma torpedoes. The second Tinashi became a fireball. More torpedoes sent the other Tinashi up in flames.

The Romulans aboard the Sharlin indulged the luxury of relief. The major spun at the Romulan holding the tricorder. "Signal the _Khiem'Ra_ to beam over reinforcements. The Minbari should be recovering from the stun gas by now."

"Yes, Major."

She smiled with relief and delight. "The Imperial Senate will surely award us for getting this ship. The stealth technology and the polycrystalline armor hold promise for the Star Empire. And…. After over a century of wasting research into the artificial quantum singularity technology, we finally have it in our hands!"

**USS Excelsior**

Captain Hikaru Sulu gazed at the main viewscreen. It was going to be soon.

There.

The Constitution shape of the USS Endeavour moved to a protection position above and in front of the two damaged starships. The blue glow on the warp nacelles on the Endeavour, Eagle and Ahwahnee grew stronger until they stretched out into the distance and disappeared in warp flashes.

"I'm going to miss them," said Pavel Chekov.

Sulu looked up at his new executive officer. He was referring to Spock, McCoy and Uhura who were on the Endeavour along with some of the Enterprise crewmembers. "Me too."

"Captain?" Janice Rand called out. "The shuttle from Babylon 5 has docked in the shuttle bay."

Captain Sulu stood up from the command chair and went for the turbolift. "Chekov, you have the con."

"Yes, sir."

Lennan was already impressed when his shuttle flew into the Excelsior's shuttlebay. A force field kept the bay's atmosphere from venting out in space, thereby allowing people to stand in it with the door wide open out to the vacuum of space. As far as he knew, no race had the technology. The same was true for the Federation's strange space distortion drive and the teleporter. The Minbari fleet captain had hardly credited the reports of the Federation starships but here was proof of high technology. He was a little troubled by that. Having been civilized longer than most races, the Minbari held their soul to be more elevated, evolved and precious than those around them.

If that was true, what did that say about the members of the Federation?

The Federationers could not be all spiritually advanced. As he had seen with his own eyes on the Excelsior, the Federation is made up of many disparate alien races. The Minbari knew that that there are soul forms, one for each race—the soul form in Minbari differ from those in Drazi, Centauri and humans. The same must be true for the other universe.

That was a question that Lennan, a member of the Religious Caste, would bring to the temples on Minbar. It was a question that possibly could require a general Religious council, something that hasn't been done since Valen left.

At this moment, Shai Alyt Lennan was walking beside Commander Chekov down a corridor. The ship's captain, Lennan knew, was escorting Captain Sheridan and Chief Garibaldi separately. Normally, that would seem insulting to the Minbari but he understood that Sheridan was oddly uncomfortable around Chekov for some reason.

"Here, we have Sickbay," Chekov was saying.

Upon approach, the entrance door slid apart to admit them. Lennan could see that the sickbay was circular, reinforcing Chekov's statement that it followed the contours of the saucer section and was in the exact center of it to preserve as many patients as possible. White uniformed people—medical staff, he assumed, appeared busy. The Minbari fleet captain shivered at the sight of the beds. They were all horizontal. For a facility designed to preserve lives, they were certainly tempting death.

Upon looking at the beds more closely, he found that they weren't quite horizontal. Rather, it was a compromise between the human horizontal and the Minbari 45 degrees slant. Still, it was a compromise that leaned more to the horizontal than the Minbari way.

One of the female medical staff approached Lennan and Chekov, smiling her welcome. "Hello. I heard about you, Captain Lennan."

Chekov introduced the woman. "This is Doctor Christine Chapel, the ship's chief medical officer."

Lennan bowed. "I am pleased to see that the Federation values healers."

Chapel's smile became one of delight. "You are of the Religious Caste, aren't you, Captain?"

"Yes. I'm curious. Do you heal the mind and soul as well as the body?"

She was puzzled at the question. "No. We're purely physicians. If the mind needs healing, we have psychologists and counselors. As for the soul…well, that's a private matter between you and yourself or whatever deity you happen to believe in."

Lennan was slightly alarmed. "So if someone is seriously injured in battle and the injuries have harmed the mind and soul, as often happens, you pay attention only to the body?"

"Yes."

The Minbari looked around at the sickbay, thinking about the implications of Starfleet's medical practices. "Our healers are healers of mind, soul and body," he said quietly. Perhaps the Federation soul form wasn't as evolved as the Minbari soul form. Still, the technology spoke of their spiritual status. It was definitely something he needed to meditate on later.

"We may not be as enlightened as you," Chapel quipped with a disarming smile, "but we certainly know how to specialize tasks." She gestured toward an area partitioned from sickbay with a glass barrier. In that area, there was a table whose cover appeared to be of green gel and a large vidscreen on the wall behind it, showing a staff with two serpents intertwining around the staff. "Would you like a demonstration in the examination room?"

Bowing his head in gratitude, Lennan said, "Please."

The trio moved into the examination room. Doctor Chapel called for a nurse to activate the room's machinery. Pointing at the table with the green gel-like top, she said, "This is the micro-diagnostic table. It's capable of fully analyzing the humanoid body at the sub-cellular level. With it, we can fully understand a patient's status. Would you like to try it out?"

Lennan was queasy at the notion of lying so horizontal. "Umm…."

The doctor had heard of the Minbari belief that sleeping in the horizontal tempted death. She smiled disarmingly again. "You won't be sleeping at all, Captain Lennan."

"Very well."

He got on the table and lay down. Immediately, the vidscreen lit up with a schematic of his body. He was amazed to see that every single part of his body was revealed in the vidscreen's constant scan of him. The Minbari excelled in the healing arts but as far as he knew, they didn't have this level of medical technology.

Chapel looked at the scan closely, her brow furrowing.

"Nurse, focus the scanner here." A finger indicated an area in Lennan's body on the vidscreen.

The Minbari became nervous. "Is there something wrong?"

"No. You're a perfectly healthy Minbari who, judging by this, might live to be 120 years old. I'm just checking something out. It might be a discrepancy in the scan. Machines, as you know, are never perfect."

Lennan nodded. "Even the universe itself is not perfect," he said sagely.

The nurse isolated the area that the doctor indicated. A box appeared onscreen, showing the image of the helix of DNA. He noticed the same thing that Chapel noticed. With another command, the nurse brought up an image of another DNA helix, distinctly different from that of the Minbari.

Once compared, even Chekov saw the implications.

"What is it?" Lennan was becoming a little annoyed.

Dr. Chapel looked down at Lennan. "Captain…. How far did your people explore the galaxy?"

"Only as far as needed to make room for our population growth. And as needed for our wars, of course. Why?"

Chapel treaded carefully. "Did your people ever visit Earth, say, a thousand years ago?"

"Certainly not. The first time we met humans was 10 years ago at the start of our war with Earth."

Chapel looked up at Chekov and the nurse.

"What is it? There's something you're not telling me. Tell me. Now."

The female human doctor waved a hand to dismiss whatever she was thinking. "It must be a glitch in the data scan. It's nothing to worry about. I'll call Engineering to fix the problem."

Lennan saw the nurse look at the doctor with an expression that told him that Chapel was lying. "Tell me."

She took a deep breath. "You have human genes in you."

The fleet captain stared at her dumbfounded.

"The degradation of the human genes indicates that the introduction occurred among your ancestors at least 40 generations ago."

Lennan continued to stare. "Impossible."

It had to be impossible. Their machine had to be wrong. Minbar had absolutely no knowledge of Earth or humanity until Earthers came into Minbari space and murdered Dukhat. These Starfleet people were saying that the Minbari were not genetically pure. The audacity! The impudence! He hastily and angrily got off the table, causing the vidscreen to blink off. "Never! You're trying to confuse me! You're lying!"

Chapel bit her lips, not knowing what to say.

"You're lying!" he accused again. "Chekov! Take me to my shuttle. I'm leaving!"

Looking helplessly at Chapel, Commander Chekov nodded and escorted Shai Alyt Lennan out of Sickbay.

This clearly had the potential to be an interstellar incident.

"What have I done?" whispered Christine Chapel.

xxxxxxx

Captain Sheridan was impressed with the Federation starship. The Excelsior was everything that the Enterprise was, but bigger. It all had the feel of new technologies, a new class of ship. Sulu's ship, more than anything else, told him that the Federation was still a growing and advancing society. The feeling was similar to what he felt when the first Omega-class destroyer rolled off the shipyards at the end of the Earth-Minbari War. He remembered how slightly disoriented and overwhelmed he was when his command was promoted from the Lexington to the Agamemnon.

He glanced at the starship captain walking beside him down the corridor, conversing with Garibaldi. Sulu had told him that he once worked on the Enterprise. He wondered if the Japanese-American felt similarly when he got the command of the Excelsior.

At a turbolift door, Sulu paused and said, "As you know, Starfleet sent several ships following the trail left by the Borg."

Sheridan and Garibaldi tensed at the memory of the Borg.

"Needless to say, Starfleet found the wreckage of battle at Wolf 359. A few survivors were found and rescued. One of them was my security chief Akaar. Another was a civilian from an Earth warship. She said she's an ISN reporter."

Garibaldi was surprised. "The ISN reporter on the Parmenion? I thought the Parmenion was destroyed."

Sulu nodded. "It was. Ms. Tonia Wallace managed to survive in an enclosed pocket of air among the debris."

"And General Lefcourt?" Sheridan asked hopefully.

The Starfleet captain shook his head sadly. "The Borg completely destroyed the Parmenion's bridge. The only reason Tonia was alive was that she was deep inside the ship during the battle." Sulu turned and pressed the doorbell button.

After a moment, the door slid apart to reveal a blonde woman in a suit dress.

"Ms. Wallace?" said Sheridan. "How are you feeling?"

The ISN reporter said, "I'm OK. Still shaken, I guess." Then she quickly went into reporter mode and fired her questions. "What's this I hear about a rebellion on Babylon 5? Were you the ringleader? How did EarthForce fare with the rebel ships here? Why did the Federation get involved? Why—"

Holding up his hands to dam up the flood of questions from Tonia, Sheridan chuckled. "I see you're fully recovered. The questions will have to wait."

Tonia nodded, disappointed. "All right. You owe me, Captains. I'm still confused about everything. Clark, the Borg, the rebellions, alien intervention…there's so much I need to know." She looked over at Sulu. "I gotta say, Captain, that you have a wonderful ship. Are these quarters expensive? They seem a little too swank for my purse."

"No payment, Ms. Wallace."

"Oh?" She was skeptical. "What's the catch? Don't tell me you're doing it out of altruism."

Sulu had to remind himself that the humans in this universe tend to be more cynical than the humans in his own universe. "No catch. Altruism is part of the reason. The Federation doesn't use money."

Tonia was amazed. "That's not possible. How do you distribute your resources, pay for the labor, make sure no one possess too much of something? This ship—it has to cost a hell lot to build!"

"Like Captain Sheridan said," replied Sulu, "The questions can wait. The doctor's orders are for you to take it easy."

"All right, all right. You still owe me, Captain." Tonia Wallace stepped backward, letting the door slide shut.

"What's next?" Sheridan wanted to know.

"The prisoner."

The Earther captain and security chief agreed grimly. Sulu could only be talking about Laurel Takashima.

**Babylon 5**

Londo Mollari was at the customs area again. He called out to an arriving passenger.

"Ahhh, Vir!"

Vir and Londo laughed as they met. The older ambassador chucked his former aide on the cheek. "It is so good to see you!"

Vir held up a small packet and said, "Oh, look what I got!"

Ambassador Mollari was delighted to see that it was a packet of spaceline peanuts. "Oh, salted!"

"Yes!"

Still laughing, Londo pointed at the jacket that Vir was wearing. It was of Minbari material, a little longer than a human suit jacket, with three-quarter-length sleeves. "But what is this?"

"It's a Minbari ceremonial coat of welcoming. They gave it to me when I arrived to take over the diplomatic mission. I had to have the sleeves shortened." He posed for Londo. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's very nice." Immediately, Londo slipped into his role as Vir's boss. "Wear it when you're **_there_**, not here! You're a Centauri, remember? All right, come on, I want to hear about everything that happened on your trip. I've never been to Minbar! What's it like?"

"It's very clean! The people are very friendly and warm, except for the warrior caste. I don't think they like foreigners. But the religious caste, very, **_very_** friendly!"

"Now…do they speak of **_me_** very often?"

Vir took time to think. He could lie, but he couldn't bring himself to do that to Londo. He knew exactly what the Minbari say about him, but he also didn't have the heart to repeat them to Londo. A half-truth would suffice. "Only behind closed doors."

"Oh." Londo quickly erased his disappointment. "But why are you here? I only just got the news that you're coming here!"

The former attaché glanced around at the customs area, looking for someone. Seeing that she wasn't here, Vir said, "Lady Morella asked me to come."

Londo was stunned. "Lady Morella?" he said worriedly. He then quickly became delighted. "Vir! You've surpassed my expectations! You've got yourself noticed by the Royal Court! In no time at all, you might even find yourself getting an appointment in the Royal Court itself!"

"I'd rather not," said Vir truthfully.

The ambassador nodded sagely at Vir's retort. Putting an arm around Vir, he happily said, "Come! We'll have brivari and you'll tell me allll about it!"

**USS Excelsior**

Before they could enter the ship's brig, Commander Chekov came up to Captains Sheridan and Sulu and Michael Garibaldi. The Russian reported the events concerning Shai Alyt Lennan.

Sheridan's eyebrows rose. "Human genes? How is that possible?"

Chekov shrugged. "I don't know. Engineering is looking at the diagnostic table to be sure there wasn't any glitch in it. But Doctor Chapel is absolutely sure that there are human genes in Lennan."

"This universe just keep throwing surprises in our way," commented Sulu. "If human DNA has been introduced into the Minbari gene pool a thousand years ago, who knows who else have the genes in Minbari society?"

Sheridan kept silent, but his mind was saying 'Delenn.' It couldn't be. Still…it made sense if that strange triluminary device was able to turn Delenn into a Minbari-human hybrid. No. Earth didn't have any contact with aliens until the late 20th century. A thousand years ago, Earth was going through the 13th century, a time of the Mongol conquests, of Crusades, of the Magna Carta, and the High Middle Ages. Hell, the greatest invention of the 13th century was the eyeglasses!

Was it the Vorlons? They've been around for millions of years. They've visited Earth at least once, as indicated by their Inquisitor, Sebastian.

But why would the Vorlons take humans from Earth and introduce their DNA into the Minbari gene pool? It just didn't make any sense.

Sulu appeared to be thinking along similar lines. "No matter. We'll deal with it soon. For now, we have the prisoner, Ms. Takashima."

"Sir? What are your orders? I'm going back to the bridge," queried Chekov.

Garibaldi said, "Captain, I think we should keep Chekov with us." He grinned mischievously. "Ms. Takashima doesn't know about Chekov so he should make her rather…nervous."

The Federationers and Sheridan chuckled at the suggestion. Sulu nodded his agreement. Together, they entered the brig.

Behind an energy barrier, Laurel Takashima looked up at the arrivals. Her eyes widened at the sight of Chekov and she backed away from the energy barrier as far as the brig cell permitted.

"What the hell are you doing here, teep!"

Chekov tried his best to look haughty and looked down his nose at Laurel. "I work here."

She gasped. "Another traitor! Earth's full of traitors! So the President was right! Aliens ARE subverting the Earth Alliance!"

Sheridan stepped forward. "Aliens are subverting the Earth Alliance, yes, but these aliens are not from the Federation."

"How can you say that! Are you blind! That man is Alfred Bester, a PsiCop! I've only seen Bester a few times on Mars, but I'd recognize him anywhere!"

Looking stern, Sulu turned to his executive officer. "Commander, name and rank!"

Snapping to attention, he said, "Pavel Andreievich Chekov. Commander, Starfleet. Serial number 656-5827B, sir."

"Origin?"

"Born to Andrei and Natasha Chekov in Taganrog, Russia in the year 2245…" He glanced at Laurel. "…on Earth, seat of the United Federation of Planets."

Laurel gaped at the Bester-look-alike. Now that she looked more closely, she saw that Chekov didn't look as old as Bester nor was his forehead as wide and heavy as Bester's. She'd heard of the theory that somewhere in other universes, there are counterparts for every person in this universe.

Suddenly, she imagined the Federation replacing key Earth Alliance citizens with its own people piecemeal, masquerading as the original citizens and preparing this part of the galaxy for an invasion from the Federation. Is there someone in the Federation that looked and sounded exactly like Laurel Takashima? Were Sulu and Sheridan going to bring that woman in to replace her in EarthForce? Suddenly, she didn't want to know.

Then something that Sheridan said came back to her. "Wait a minute," she said suspiciously. "You said that aliens are subverting the Earth Alliance. You say they're not the Federationers. Who else could they be?"

Sheridan shared a look with Sulu before responding carefully. "There are aliens influencing the highest levels of EarthGov. We know only one name for them: Shadows."

Laurel said nothing. It was the first time she was hearing of Shadows influencing EarthGov. Sheridan continued.

"Do you remember ISN releasing that footage of the black alien ship found in hyperspace? That's a vessel of the Shadows."

Laurel scoffed. "Conspiracies! I have to wonder why we always have a fascination for conspiracy theories!"

Sheridan nodded at Sulu who then activated a small viewscreen in the guard area. It showed a static-ridden image of William Morgan Clark sitting at a desk. Garibaldi stood by silently, remembering how he once butted heads with Sheridan over keeping Morden in prison without any charges.

Clark said gleefully, _"I've wanted Santiago dead for so long! I wasn't sure we could really pull it off! You're sure it's done?"_

An unseen voice responded, _"EarthForce One will never return from Io. The power is now yours, Clark—Mister President."_ At that, Clark leaned back in his chair smugly.

The image faded in static.

Laurel looked at the three men with raised eyebrows. "That's it? That's all you have to show for your theory? We've all seen that footage before on the news and it's not conclusive evidence."

"Well," replied Sheridan, "we know who the voice was."

Here, Sulu brought up another image on the viewscreen. It showed a human man sitting in a cell with his arms crossed.

"His name's Morden."

"I still don't see—"

"Watch!"

The scanning frequencies of the image changed, causing it to fuzz out for a moment and then suddenly was in crystal clarity.

Laurel gasped.

Two utterly alien beings stood in front of Morden in a conversational group. They vaguely reminded her of spiders and demons. She knew that if someone told her that the terrifying black ship shown by ISN was owned by beings like those facing Morden, she would believe it.

She shivered. "I…I think I saw one of their ships. You know how after my stint on Babylon 5 Earth Central reassigned me to a ship on the Rim?"

Sheridan nodded.

"Strange things happen at the Rim of Known Space, you know. Anyway, my ship was surveying a system charted by an Explorer some time before. We were just about ready to jump out to the next system when—when I saw something. It was probably a thousand kilometer away, black as space, so black that your eyes slid off it. The only reason I knew it was there was because it blotted out the stars behind it. It was _big_! When I blinked, it was gone!"

"Well, Ms. Takashima, now you know who are really calling the shots back home. It's certainly not Clark."

"It makes sense," she whispered. 'Ms. Takashima'…so she was no longer recognized as an EarthForce captain. Very well. "The things I've heard when I was stationed on Mars. Rumors of an ancient alien civilization at Syria Planum and Cydonia." She shook her head.

Garibaldi was startled. "Syria Planum!"

Sulu peered at the security chief. "You know something?"

"Yeah, I mean, I was there seven years ago. I was piloting a shuttle on Mars. We went down, two of us had to get back to civilization on our own. I saw what the rumors were talking about. A Shadow ship coming out of the sky and stopping over a dig in Syria Planum. I thought it was destroying something there. It went down into the dig, out of sight. For twenty, twenty-five minutes, nothing happened. Then we heard it! It was a scream that just reaches right into your brain and rips it apart! The ship rose out of the dig and there was a _second_ ship coming up after it! It was buried under the surface of Mars all these time and we never knew until someone found it and called the Shadows about it! When I went back to check it out, it was all gone. Uh, except for…." Garibaldi looked around and said, "…except for a PsiCorps badge, badly burned at the site."

"PsiCorps!" Sheridan shook his head, stunned at the audacity of that organization.

A chill went up Captain Sulu's back as he remembered his encounters with Shadow ships. Seven years! So all this time, the Shadows had been infiltrating the Earth Alliance. He said, "I hope that the Shadows don't think to try and corrupt the Federation. We're going to make sure of that!"

Laurel Takashima looked from man to man, wondering if they were staging this for her benefit. What reason could there be for such a deception? "Uh…. You've given me a lot to think about."

Sheridan gave a curt nod and said somberly, "We'll come back. There are other things we need to discuss. Such as your shooting at my station and endangering the lives of a quarter million humans and aliens!"

"Yes, sir," said Laurel in a small voice.

**Babylon 5**

A Narn man rushed through the open door of G'Kar's quarters, passing a human businessman. The Narn caught G'Kar gazing at a small bag of white powder in his hand. Startled at the arrival of the Narn man, he quickly put the packet into a desk drawer.

Brusquely, G'Kar said, "What is it?"

"There is news. News from Narn."

G'Kar slowly rose from his seat, tensing up. "Ta'Lon…. Did we stop the Centauri?"

Ta'Lon took a deep breath. "Captain Ka'Shin of the _Tequera an Fol_ led the _G'Tok_ and the _Ki'tang_ to the edge of the Narn System, moved insystem and waited for the Centauri to jump in…."

**Narn (renamed to Narnia by the Centauri)**

A blue jumppoint opened and a Centauri battlecruiser slipped out of it, escorted by its two Vorchan escorts.

Immediately, space near the convoy rippled. Two Narn G'Quan-class cruisers and a Klingon K'vort-class bird of prey decloaked and fired disruptors and photon torpedoes. Shields saved the Centauri ships from instant destruction, but one of the Vorchans was disabled, spiraling out of control. The Narns launched fighters.

Another torpedo from one of the Narn cruisers shattered the disabled Vorchan. The Klingons quickly moved in close to use their disruptors to knock down the other Vorchan's shields, then decapitated the ship. The remaining Vorchan continued to move under its own momentum, headless and belching small explosions.

Meanwhile, the Primus battlecruiser aimed its cannons and fired. The energy bolts splashed against shields protecting the Narns who were then ganging up on the battlecruiser with the Klingons. Sentri fighters poured out of the Primus.

Space rippled once more. This time, it was two Romulan warbirds decloaking. They raked the rear ends of the Narn and Klingon ships with disruptor and torpedo fire. Caught between the Centauri and Romulans, the Narn ships were soon heavily damaged while the Klingons made strafing runs at both the warbirds and the battlecruiser.

On the command deck of the _Tequera an Fol_, three officers sat strapped into their stations. One of the officers, a female, reported to the captain strapped in his chair, "Environmental controls hit!"

Captain Ka'Shin knew that the moment the Romulans came, the battle was lost. The Narn Resistance couldn't afford to lose more ships. It was clearly a trap. So the information about a weapon of mass destruction on the battlecruiser must be false. He said, "Do we have enough power to jump?"

"Only if we go right now!"

"Prepare for jump."

A vortex formed in front of the _Tequera an Fol_. The female officer shouted, "I'm picking up a distress signal! It's the _G'Tok_! Their jumpengines are down!"

"Shrok! And the Klingons?"

"They've disabled one of the warbirds! But they're taking damages. Their warp core is down!"

"Tell General Moghar to tractor the _G'Tok_ and get it out of here!"

"Yes, captain. Enemy forces closing on their position!"

Several Narn fighters did their best to drive off the attackers. Their best wasn't good enough as they died in Romulan disruptor fire. The captain closed his eyes, resigned to what he must do.

"Keep the jumppoint open as long as you can. And put us between the _G'Tok _and the enemy."

"Changing course."

The Narn cruiser turned its belly its belly toward the enemy, offering itself up as a shield—and a target. Her shields glowed furiously under Romulan fire as the Klingon bird of prey ran at the _G'Tok_, activated its tractor beam and hauled it through the jumppoint created by the _Tequera an Fol_.

Relieved, the female officer reported, "They're away! They're safe!"

Captain Ka'Shin quietly said to the departing Klingons, "Qapla', my friends."

The Primus battlecruiser and the intact Romulan warbird closed on the remaining Narn ship. The officers knew what was coming and simply gripped their armrests. The end was mercifully quick, as the cruiser disappeared in a spectacular fireball.

The Centauri battlecruiser, freed of the threat, then turned its attention to Narn and approached the planet. Its missile tubes opened and canisters shot forth and detonated in the Narn atmosphere.

**Babylon 5**

"…the Klingons told us that scans of the weapon in the battlecruiser revealed it to be cobalt diselenide. It affects the nervous system in races whose physiology is like the Narns and Cardassians. The amount released will make the planet uninhabitable for everyone except the Centauri and other humanoids for 50 years." Ta'lon paused at the stricken look on G'Kar's face. He knew the feeling, having only recently experienced it. "G'Kar…if Narn is not evacuated within days, all 2 billion of us will die. I…I don't think the Centauri will do this. Our agents report that they're only loading colony ships and sending them to Narn. Inoculations are being offered to Narn collaborators and slaves in Centauri possession."

G'Kar's knees threatened to buckle so he sat down in his chair. His eyes blazed with anger and his teeth gritted as he tried to keep himself from exploding at Ta'lon. Ta'lon was merely the messenger.

"Leave," he said through gritted teeth.

Ta'lon brought his fists up to his chest and bowed before leaving quietly and quickly.

G'Kar, now alone, let loose his rage at the Centauri, at the universe, even at the old gods. All this pain, all this death, was all because of the Centauri. One of them was the prominent and important Ambassador Londo Mollari. He vented his fury by trashing his quarters, crying with rage, "**_50 YEARS! Mollari! MOLLARII!_**" In the process, the desk was knocked over and a drawer flew out. Catching sight of the packet of Dust, G'Kar reached for it.

**Shai Alyt Lennan's Warcruiser**

Shai Alyt Lennan meditated in front of a candle in his sanctum. In spite of the appearance of peace and harmony, he was not at peace inside. He had tried to deny the revelation about human genes inside himself. If the Federationers were telling the truth, then he was not pure.

The thought had occurred to him that if the human DNA was introduced into the Minbari gene pool a thousand years ago, Lennan wouldn't be alone with his impurities. How many impure Minbari? How many in the thousand years since the gene was introduced?

He remembered the temple texts discussing how Valen's children were persecuted and driven from Minbar for not being pure Minbari.

Lennan shied away from that thought. It would lead to uncomfortable thoughts. Very uncomfortable thoughts. Like the one about Minbari not born of Minbari.

He forced his mind away from that path again.

How many impure Minbari were there now?

Damn the Federation for rousing unwanted thoughts in him!

If he were to make the revelation public, every Minbari would have to undergo genetic tests. He knew with total certainty that after those tests, Lennan of the Religious Caste would no longer be a respected Minbari. Instead, an alien named Lennan would be judged harshly. The knowledge that there were impurities in the Minbari gene pool would shake Minbar to the core, maybe even break it apart.

In Valen's Name! Without the Grey Council, the Minbari Federation was now only holding itself together because there was strict equality in number, technology and power between the castes. He remembered Captain Sulu's words when he first met him: _"So…if the Grey Council has been dissolved, the courtesy has fallen out of practice, as you say…. Wouldn't that mean this 'Valen's Covenant' no longer holds?"_

He was no longer sure that Valen's Covenant would hold.

The galaxy itself might tremble before such a blow.

Lennan scoffed to himself. As if the Shadows were not enough!

Since birth, Minbari were taught there was no greater goal or nobler duty than to serve others. They were raised to be totally self-sacrificing, so it never occurred to many Minbari to do anything other than to serve. One of the lessons of service is that in times of suffering, those that are afflicted should be ministered to and comforted. This applied to all beings, not just the Minbari.

Would that apply to Lennan? Was he even "afflicted"? His eyes went over to a wall in the sanctum. It held a long dagger from the old days. Perhaps he could minister to his own affliction by….

No.

A ritual suicide demands him to explain his reasons, if not to the public, to his second. He didn't have the heart to burden yet another Minbari with his troubling thoughts. Thoughts that could lead to unsettling questions about the entire belief system of Minbar, including Valen.

Delenn?

No. Such a woman was too precious to burden. Besides, many people saw her as 'contaminated' not only by her genetic changes but also by her exposure to alien cultures. He was afraid that because she was once of the Grey Council, she would know the truth. He was afraid of what truth she held about the impurities in the Minbari gene pool.

Besides, if he were to suddenly die so soon after a visit to the Federation starship, it would attract unwanted attention.

To maintain honor, all Minbari must tell the truth or keep silent. However, distortion of the truth was accepted if by doing so the Minbari allowed another being or member of their clan to save face.

Lennan drew himself up straight. Very well. To save the face of the entire Minbari race, he would keep silent. In this way, he would have great honor even though no one would know how honorable he was. But he knew that someday, somehow, he would slip or someone else would find out. He could only hope that Minbari society could survive such a revelation.

He could only hope. He stood up and blew out the candle.

**Babylon 5**

Londo Mollari was badly beaten up and was now unconscious. G'Kar held his head up as he rummaged through the Centauri ambassador's memories.

In the Royal Palace, a Centauri minister briefed a much younger Londo Mollari.

"Your shuttle leaves for Babylon 5 in two days. I hope that gives you enough time to out your affairs in order? Before you go, you'll be officially given the title of Ambassador. Obviously, we expect you to represent our people as best you can. Any questions?"

"Just one. I would like to know why **_I_** was chosen for this honor?"

"No one else wants it! The first four stations were destroyed, or vanished, so it's not a very safe place to live. And safety is much valued. Frankly, it's a mess!"

"In other words, the position is really little more than, what? A joke?"

"Yes. And a bad one, at that. I'm sorry, Londo. If I could have assigned anyone else, I would have. But your name floated to the top. And once Emperor Turhan saw it, well, that was the end of it!"

Londo found himself in a dark place, G'Kar's mocking laughter ringing in his ears. The Narn sat as if on an elevated throne.

"Who would believe it? The great and powerful Londo Mollari got his job because no one else was stupid enough to take it!"

Angrily and fearfully, Londo shouted, "Get out of here! I have nothing to say to you!"

"Ohhhh, but there's so much more to see, Mollari!" taunted G'Kar. Suddenly he was standing behind Londo. The ambassador spun around to face him. "How does it feel to be helpless, to be the victim? Does it help you to understand how we feel? Does it help you understand our pain?" G'Kar reappeared on his throne and spoke fiercely. "Show me your secrets, Londo! **_Show me your secrets!_**"

In a garden on Centauri Prime, a Centauri lady appeared out of the colorful foliage, heavy veils hiding her face. Emperor Cartagia smiled at her as the shirt on his chest stirred with anticipation.

The lady approached and whispered, "Cartagia." She repeated the name in a normal, though raspy voice. The third time she said his name was a scream. She was now running at the emperor, the sun glinting off the metal of a dagger in her upraised hand.

A golden flash struck the screaming lady. She gasped in surprise, dropped the dagger and collapsed on the garden path. Londo Mollari stepped through the flowering plants, holding a Royal Guardsman's Tromo blaster. He grimly looked down at the 'lady'. Her veil had fallen away. A look of shocked betrayal was frozen on her Narn face.

It was Na'Toth, G'Kar's missing aide.

G'Kar drew in a long gasp. "You tricked her! You killed her! All just to gain some influence over your mad emperor!" He scowled blackly. "Show me more!"

Londo raised his hands to cover his face in terror and screamed.

Londo was in the Garden of Babylon 5 with Mr. Morden. The Centauri ambassador was agitated.

"What have you done?"

"Only what you asked me to do," retorted Morden. "You had a problem with Quadrant 37—we took care of it for you!"

**"**Yes, but you **_killed_** ten thousand Narns!"

"I didn't know you cared! Ten thousand, a hundred thousand, a million—what's the difference? They're Narns, Ambassador. Your sworn enemy."

Grinning sarcastically, Londo said, "Why don't you eliminate the entire Narn homeworld while you're at it?"

"One thing at a time, Ambassador," said Morden gravely. "One thing at a time!"

In the dark place, G'Kar was stunned. "You. It was you!" He scowled blackly again. "Two billion people are dying at Narn because of you! **_You_** were at the center of it all! And the others, the ones you're working with…."

Londo was now afraid. "No! Not any more! It was a mistake! I have nothing more to do with them!"

"Who are they?" G'Kar roared. "Tell me! Tell me or I'll rip it from your mind!"

"No!"

"Then I'll **_take_** it from you! Neuron by neuron! **_All of it, Mollari! All of it!_**"

In quick flashes, G'Kar saw:

…A great hand reaching out of a sun;

…Londo **_not_** seeing an angel rescuing Sheridan;

…Londo watching Shadow ships fly over Imperial City on Centauri Prime;

…Londo crowned as Emperor;

…Londo being toasted by G'Kar even as the war began;

…Londo's announcement of the Narn surrender;

…Londo entering the Centauri throne room;

…The hand;

…Londo preparing to leave on the final assault;

…The Mass Driver planetary bombardment at Narn;

…Londo being escorted to the Babylon 5 Advisory Council to announce the surrender of Narn;

…The expulsion of G'Kar from the Council;

…Londo as a sick old man on the Centauri throne;

…The hand;

…G'Kar as a much-abused old one-eyed man in the throne room;

…The two old men strangling each other, killing each other;

…The hand.

G'Kar sat with his hands hiding his eyes from the sight.

A gentle voice came through the darkness. "It is enough!"

G'Kar looked up. "Who…. Who's there?"

"Just us."

"Who are you?"

"I am who I have always been." The source of the voice turned out to be an older Narn, hanging by his wrists from a tree on Narn.

"Father?" G'Kar was surprised.

"It is too late for me, G'Kar. It is not too late for you. Honor my name. Honor—my name." G'Kar's father died.

G'Kar was crying. "No!" He reached for his father, but now he was alone, back in the darkness.

"We are a dying people, G'Kar. So are the Centauri."

G'Kar turned to see another old Narn. He was surprised to see that it was G'Quan himself.

"Obsessed with each other's death until **_death_** is all we can see and death is all we deserve!"

"The Centauri started it!"

"And will you continue until there are no more Narns, and no more Centauri?" G'Quan looked at G'Kar sadly. "If both sides are dead, no one will care which side deserves the blame. It no longer matters who started it, G'Kar. It only matters who is suffering."

"No." G'Kar was crying again. "No, I have an obligation to honor my father's name!"

"And how have you chosen to honor that name? What is there left for Narn if all of Creation falls around us? There is nothing! Even Narn is dead to us now. No hope, no dream, no future, no life—unless we turn from the cycle of death toward something greater. If we are a dying people, let us die with honor by helping the others as no one else can!"

"I don't understand."

"Because you have let them distract you, **_blind_** you with hate! You cannot see the battle for what it is! We are fighting to save one another! We must realize we are not alone! We rise and fall together! And some of us must be sacrificed it all are to be saved. Because if we fail in this, then **_none_** of us will be saved, and the Narn will be only a memory." G'Quan vanished.

A third voice intruded in the darkness. "You have the opportunity, here and now, to choose—to become something greater, and nobler, and more difficult than you have been before. The universe does not offer such chances often, G'Kar!"

"Why now? Why not earlier? All this time, where have you been?"

"I have always been here."

A rustle of wings and a bright light turned G'Kar around in time to see the angel G'Lan take flight and disappear into the dark heavens.

G'Kar sat hiding his face once more. This time he was outside of any mind, back in Babylon 5. He raised his head and looked around. Mollari lay unconscious beside him. He buried his face in his hands once more and bawled.

Unnoticed, Kosh looked on. Satisfied, the Vorlon turned and took his leave.

**USS Excelsior**

Laurel Takashima had a lot to think about. Alien influence in the highest levels of Earth government, Shadows roaming the night, Federation might, memories of Mars and the Rim, the way the Clark Administration was handling the Earth Alliance which was at this moment falling apart, and—

The door to the brig opened. It was Captain Sheridan.

"Ms. Takashima, this will take only a moment. I have urgent business back on Babylon 5."

She stood up. "Yes, sir."

"You're aware that you've opened fire on a station full of a quarter million humans and aliens?"

"Sir, I'm just following orders. I was just doing my job!"

John Sheridan gazed at Laurel silently. He looked at his watch and said, "'Just following orders.' 'Just doing my job.' I hear a lot of those when talking about Clark. They're excuses to detach ourselves from the moral obligations we all have. You know, if you look at the guys who ran Treblinka, Bergen-Belsen or Auschwitz, you'll see that that they mostly ordinary-looking people. They look like they could be accountants, repair men, car salesmen, and insurance sellers. They were us. We all know about the big bad guys, the evil empires, the evil leader and all that crap. Too often, the real damage is done not by the evil leader but by the thousands, the millions of people who _follow_ him, the bookkeepers who track the bodies, the trains and the pain by putting the right figures in all the right columns, who make the trains run on time, who run the prisons, who build the new empires that will be made with slave labor. Any of them could say, as many have, 'I was just doing my job.'"

Laurel stared at Sheridan, her eyes smoldering with wounded dignity and denial.

"'Following orders'…that's how the military is run, sure, but we all have the obligation to think about what kind of orders we're getting and to make sure that these orders are right and _legal_. My God, Laurel! We've come to the point where it's all right for ship captains to follow orders telling them to shoot at unarmed civilians, where it's ok for us to charge people with treason simply just for not agreeing with the government." He held up a compad that Laurel didn't notice before. "Here, let me read you something from during the First World War:

"The President is merely the most important among a large number of public servants. He should be supported or opposed exactly to the degree which is warranted by his good conduct or bad conduct, his efficiency or inefficiency in rendering loyal, able, and disinterested service to the Nation as a whole. Therefore it is absolutely necessary that there should be full liberty to tell the truth about his acts, and this means that it is exactly necessary to blame him when he does wrong as to praise him when he does right. Any other attitude in an American citizen is both base and servile. To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or any one else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about any one else."

"Nice speech," sneered Laurel. "I bet it was a radical who said it."

In mock seriousness, Sheridan said, "No, Ms. Takashima. It was former President Theodore Roosevelt."

Laurel looked down and sat quietly. There were many things she had done that she now regretted. Things she did on Mars, on Babylon 5, at the Rim and in the Janos System.

She looked up and said, "I'll join you."

Sheridan was surprised and not a little skeptical and suspicious.

Laurel stood up and got as close to the energy barrier as possible. She could feel the static electricity coming from the barrier. "Really. I've never truly agreed with Clark. I'll join you."

**Babylon 5**

G'Kar looked up when the door to his cell clanged open. He squinted at the light. The silhouette seemed to be that of a woman in a large dress.

Surprised, he whispered, "Morella?"

The Centauri lady stepped into the cell. Lady Morella looked around the cell with distaste. "Earth prison cells are nothing like Centauri dungeons, but I could hardly call this an improvement."

Calm, but confused, G'Kar asked, "What are you doing here?"

"You were noticeably different at the trial today. Is hatred no longer all you have?"

G'Kar smiled. "No. Not anymore."

She nodded approvingly. "This is what Turhan wanted." Morella studied G'Kar. "I knew you would be coming for Londo."

"Lady, you surprise me again. Why didn't you try to warn him or stop me?"

She said simply, "Londo needed to learn. Just as you needed to learn. Do you think Londo deserves forgiveness?"

G'Kar thought for a moment. "I think I won't be able to forgive him for what he did to my people. There was something I saw in Londo…."

Flashing back to his experience in Londo's mind, he saw the technomage Elric talking to the Centauri ambassador.

"_Oh, I'm afraid you're going to have to spend the rest of your life paying for your mistakes. You are touched by darkness, Ambassador. I see it as a blemish that will grow with time. As I look at you, Ambassador Mollari, I see a great hand reaching out of the stars. The hand is your hand. And I hear sounds—the sounds of billions of people calling your name."_

"_My followers?" asked Londo with hope and wonder._

"_Your victims."_

Lady Morella nodded as if she knew this. "It has happened. It is happening and will continue to happen if Londo doesn't learn and choose in time. Thank you, Citizen G'Kar." She turned to go.

"For what?"

Morella smiled over her shoulder at the Narn. "For helping us to learn."

xxxxxx

Much later, Lady Morella came out of Londo's quarters. She was satisfied with her day. She had just made her reading for Ambassador Mollari and she hoped that he would be able to catch the signs when they appear. Three opportunities to avoid the fire that awaited him. She sighed sadly. Three opportunities to avoid the fire that would burn Centauri Prime.

She remembered her husband's death dream that had come to pass: seeing a Vorlon, asking how it would all end.

_In fire._

It was a tragedy, Morella thought. She pitied the fate that awaited Londo and Vir. Their destiny as Emperor could not be avoided. And now she would return to Centauri Prime and endure the deprecations that the monster Cartagia was now inflicting upon her people and homeworld.

She remembered her son, Beyon. Once, as the Imperial family viewed a freak show at the Royal Palace, Prince Beyon leaned over to speak to Morella under his breath.

"Do you know, Mother, who is the greatest freak and monster of them all?"

Morella had remained silent. Then Beyon offered an answer to his own question that the empress didn't expect: "It is the Emperor. He stands apart from all other people, distant, unique, forever isolated from all honesty and love, from normal feeling of any sort. He is a grotesque thing, an Emperor is. There is no monster so pitiable in the universe as an Emperor, Mother."

Morella sighed. The crown prince had been wise beyond his years. He would have made a good emperor. Too bad he died in that boating 'accident.' Too bad that the current Emperor is a monster of monsters.

She said to one of her Royal guardsmen, "Let's go home."

"Yes, Great Lady."

**USS Excelsior**

Captain Sheridan was in Captain Sulu's office. They were speaking of the coming wars with the Shadows and the Earth Alliance.

"Will the Federation help us?"

Sulu frowned. "Yes. But it's strange, Captain. Starfleet Command, not to mention the Federation Council, wants nothing more than to leave this universe alone entirely. They wanted the Enterprise crew to go back home, but they've ordered me to stay. They've ordered what's left of my task force to stay." He brightened. "One starship would have been enough help for you. A whole fleet is hell lot more help!"

"Yeah." Sheridan actually appreciated the presence of the remaining six starships at Babylon 5. Add the three Minbari warcruisers and the station was now one of the most protected locations in this part of the galaxy. Babylon 5 was a dream given form, a dream in which the Earth Alliance had the potential to be something more than it has become. The two have parted ways, severing each other off. For now, Babylon 5 would be an independent republic where new dreams could form. Dreams of peace, of victory, of hopes, of a galaxy where all could live and enjoy life. A republic of dreams. He liked that. A thought occurred to him.

"What about the Borg?"

"I don't know. So far, we've heard nothing from them." Sulu now looked worried. "I have a feeling that we haven't heard the last from the Borg."

"I hope not. We do still have the Shadows to contend with."

Sulu nodded his agreement grimly.

**Hyperspace, somewhere in Federation space**

A Shadow heavy battlecrab cruised through the maelstrom of hyperspace.


	29. Something Fishy

_sg07: That slipped my mind. It'd have to be remedied. Thanks so much for piling up onto my later editing job:)_

_Bien: Thanks for your words of praise._

_Artemis1000: Shadows dancing in the Federation is a dangerous thing, as you will see. G'Kar saw those memories because he was looking for them. He saw Londo as a bad person so of course, he'd get the bad memories rather than the good._

_The Bushranger: And the epidemic of Romulans will keep on spreading, as you will see. All hail the Star Empire!_

_grayangle: Glad to see you back. 'Narn' and 'Narnia' seem such an obvious crossover that someone had to do it. Hehe. Of course, I wouldn't go so far as to have talking animals and a Christ-like lion appear on Narn. The universe's confusing enough as it is!_

_On with the story!_

* * *

**Starbase 10**

The Constitution-class starship Endeavour was parked near the massive starbase. Behind them in the distance, the rift was still open to Babylon 5's universe. One of the starbase's doors was closing. They had just delivered the two damaged starships from the other universe: the Eagle and the Ahwahnee. This area of space, dimly lit by the distant star of Cheron and bordering the Romulan Neutral Zone, was now heavily armed with starships and fighters on patrol. So far, no one had tested this area's defenses.

So far.

**Endeavour**

Captain Spock gazed at the starbase in the windows of his darkened quarters. Already, the Eagle and the Ahwahnee were inside being repaired. He turned around to face a candle burning on a table and remembered Lady Morella's predictions.

"_You must reunite your people or the stars will be rent in blood and fire. You must beware the man who remembers Surak's face. If you would have your friend live, he must die."_

The first part of the prophecy was clear enough to him. It appealed directly to his secret desires and dreams. The second and third weren't as clear and were troubling in their implications. Ever since that Shadow vessel took Jim, Spock couldn't sense his friend. If he couldn't sense the underlying bond between them, then Kirk must be dead.

Perhaps the third part of the prophecy had already come to pass?

That didn't sound logical, as the incident at Mars occurred before Morella's 'viewing.'

The second part of the prophecy was as troubling. There were icons and statues of Surak on Vulcan and its colonies. The former Centauri empress would not mean this so figuratively. Literally speaking, the only people who have seen the face of Surak in person were priests at Mount Seleya and…Jim. And even then, it wasn't real: the priests saw Surak only in visions achieved from communicating with the visionary's katra; Jim had seen only a replicant created by the Excalbians. Perhaps Morella meant something else?

A bosun's whistle sounded. It was the ship's intercom. _"Captain Spock."_

The Vulcan gathered his black robes and activated the intercom in a panel by the quarter's entrance. "This is Spock."

"_This is the Main Transporter Room. We've received communication from Starbase 10 that Admiral Heihachiro Nogura is about to beam aboard."_

Spock arched an eyebrow. Admiral Nogura. What had prompted his presence on this particular starbase? "I am on my way." He cut the link and then opened another channel.

"Doctor McCoy. Commander Uhura."

xXx

Doctor Leonard McCoy strode into the transporter room and saw that Spock and Uhura were already there. He narrowed his eyes at an additional person. And Areel Shaw.

Spock nodded at the transporter operator. A pillar of light appeared on the transporter pad, shimmering and glittering until it coalesced into a human man. He was carrying what appeared to be a large suitcase capable of containing a portable transporter pad.

"Admiral Nogura," said Spock. "This is unexpected."

Nogura stepped down from the transporter pad, smiling at Spock's Vulcan bluntness. "Captain Spock." Then the smile disappeared. "Captain Shaw. I need to speak with you. Alone."

The blonde woman glanced at the former Enterprise officers. She didn't allow herself to appear nervous. "Yes, sir. This way, sir."

Once the Oriental admiral and Areel were gone from the transporter room, McCoy looked at his friends. "What's going on? Is she in trouble?"

Uhura gave a small shrug while Spock said, "I would refrain from speculating, Doctor. We will find out in due time."

xXx

Information wasn't long in forthcoming. But it was Spock who found out. He had been summoned into Nogura's quarters only minutes later. Areel was still there, standing off to the side.

The admiral began without preamble. "Captain Shaw has been temporarily transferred to the Inspector General's office."

Spock was surprised. Areel was a judicial captain under authority of the Starfleet Judge Advocate General. To transfer a judicial officer to the Department of Internal Affairs was almost unheard of.

"She'll be conducting a complete investigation of the Enterprise."

The Vulcan got as close to a frown as he allowed himself. "Admiral, the Enterprise has been destroyed."

Nogura winced slightly. "I know. That was a sad day for Starfleet. What I mean is that she'll investigate the remaining officers of the Enterprise. I have reason to believe there may be very wrong with you…very wrong."

"What is the basis for your suspicion?"

"I…. No. It's inappropriate to discuss it now. We'll review this fully when Mister Shaw concludes her investigation."

"Would there not be a conflict of interests, Admiral?" said Spock. "Captain Shaw has been with us at Babylon 5."

"No." Nogura glanced at Areel. "She has proven that she's more than capable of maintaining her professional integrity on numerous occasions." The admiral looked squarely at Spock. "And you, Captain, are ordered to cooperate in every way necessary with the investigation. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mister Shaw, unless there are further questions…."

Areel stood almost at attention. "No, sir."

"Go on with your duties."

"Yes, sir." With that, Areel purposefully exited. When the door closed, Spock turned to Nogura.

"Admiral, I do not understand. This is not logical. What is the basis for this?"

Nogura dodged the question, though he didn't look too happy with it. "Captain, it is vital that my orders are followed exactly. I'll be staying on the ship. The investigation will go on while we make for Earth."

Spock didn't like the way that sounded. But he had to submit to the admiral's authority. For now.

xXx

Dr. McCoy was helping the Endeavour's doctor with a medical compilation of the races encountered at Babylon 5 when Areel entered the ship's sickbay. She was holding a compad and stood watching McCoy at work.

The doctor tried to ignore her, but soon, her eyes boring into him was getting to be irritating. Especially whenever McCoy made a decision or took an action, she entered observations in her compad. Fed up, he turned to Areel and said, "May I help you, Miss Shaw?"

She replied coolly, "When I'm ready, Doctor McCoy, I'll want to speak with you in private." With that, she punched in yet another observation in her compad and left sickbay.

The doctor couldn't believe it. She had been with them at Babylon 5 and now she was acting like this was the first time they met!

The Endeavour's doctor muttered quietly to McCoy, "What's going on? What's she looking for?"

McCoy gritted his teeth in frustration. Now the woman had done it! She has distracted him totally from his work. "I don't know. I'm going to find out. Now."

xXx

Spock was lighting another votive candle when the door chime sounded.

"Enter."

Dr. McCoy entered the Vulcan's dim guest quarters. He took in the single votive candle, Spock's flowing black robes and the smell of incense in the air. He frowned sympathetically. Spock was still in mourning.

"What's the hell Areel doing? She's turned inquisitor all over again!"

An arched eyebrow: "That is her job, Leonard."

"But—! She did it to us before and we're coming home as a result. What's there to investigate!"

"I…." Spock frowned slightly. He didn't like to admit his lack of knowledge. "…do not know."

"Lemme tell you, Spock. I think there's something fishy going on at Starfleet Command. Inquiries left and right! Underhanded deals designed to force entire crews to relocate! A full-scale raid into the very heart of the Earth Alliance! And now this—!"

"Doctor. Your emotions are clouding your judgment. Such speculations are not included in our duties."

McCoy narrowed his eyes at his friend. The Vulcan spoke of emotions clouding judgments yet here he was, mourning the death of Kirk. Still, he wasn't about to touch that raw nerve in his friend. "Spock…do you really don't know what's going on?"

"No," said Spock simply. He added, "Full cooperation has been ordered. We must give it. All of us."

McCoy tried not to lose his temper. He looked at Spock who only stared back unblinkingly. Finally, the doctor rolled his eyes, sighed, and left. The Vulcan looked at the closed doors for a while and then looked down to gaze at the votive candle.

xXx

Areel entered sickbay. Dr. McCoy looked up from his work and scowled.

"Are you available now, Doctor?"

"No."

Captain Shaw frowned at the answer. "You were ordered to cooperate…."

The doctor's scowl deepened. He called over a nurse and handed him a compad. "I'm available now."

"Let's go to my quarters."

xXx

Areel sat at her desk with McCoy in front of her.

"There are several problems with Captain Kirk."

"Captain Kirk?" McCoy was surprised. He had thought that Areel would investigate everyone. Certainly not a dead man.

"Yes." Areel leaned forward onto her desk. "To your knowledge, has James Kirk ever falsified any of his logs?"

McCoy didn't know that he was now standing in outrage. "My God, woman! The captain's dead and you want to drag his name through the mud?"

"Answer the question, Doctor." Areel Shaw was coolly looking up at McCoy.

"Don't you remember? You put Jim on trial back in 2267 at Starbase 11 for this kind of thing! He has been acquitted, as you very well know!"

She looked down and touched her compad, making a note. "That's in the past. This is now. You are required to answer my questions, Doctor McCoy. I want to discuss several discrepancies in Captain Kirk's logs. Shall we go over them, one by one?"

The doctor seethed at the handsome blonde woman before finally sitting down. "Go ahead."

xXx

"Why was General Order Twenty-four ordered?" asked Areel.

Uhura looked down her nose at the judicial captain. "Captain Kirk wanted to stop a five-hundred years war between Eminiar VII and Vendikar."

"Weren't there any alternative to implementing such a drastic order?"

"If he hadn't, the Eminians would have destroyed the ship and killed all of us."

"Ah. So it wasn't entirely altruistic. Don't you think it's interesting that the only other Starfleet captain to issue that order is Garth of Izar?"

Uhura was silently giving Areel a hard look.

"You don't like me very much, do you, Commander?" asked Areel.

"Is it required, sir?"

xXx

"Then you agree that Captain Kirk violated the Prime Directive at the planet Neural? He deliberately armed the natives with weapons beyond their technological capability?"

"Yes," McCoy said with very little patience. "If you read the records, it's all explained there. The Klingons were arming a faction. If we hadn't interfered, that planet would have fallen to the Klingon Empire eventually."

"There was an alternative, wasn't there, Doctor? You could have confronted the Klingons themselves. If you weren't able to handle them on your own, more starships could be called to reinforce yourselves."

"And start a full-blown war with the Klingon Empire?"

xXx

"After the Enterprise Incident, Captain Kirk once remarked that because of that event, he would never fully trust Starfleet Command again." Areel looked up quickly. "Can you confirm this?"

Uhura frowned. "That's hearsay. I cannot confirm what I didn't hear myself."

xXx

"As long as we are on the subject of the Prime Directive," said Areel. "There are impressive violations of that while you were in the other universe. The elimination of a plague on Markab—"

"If we hadn't cured them, they would be extinct by now!" McCoy's disbelief in this investigation was mounting.

"—and the subsequent downfall of the Markab government…"

"Not our fault."

"…the divulging of Federation technology to Babylon 5, the Minbari and the League of Non-Aligned Worlds…"

"Damn you, it's because of the Borg! Without our help, the Borg would have sliced through them like a hot knife through butter! And I don't hear you complaining of the Romulan and Klingon involvement with the Centauri and Narn!"

"That's regrettable, but not relevant."

"Not rele—!" McCoy was outraged. But Areel was already speaking again.

"And the political realignment of the League of Non-Aligned Worlds into a federation now known as the InterStellar Alliance…"

The doctor rolled his eyes.

"The constant antagonizing of the Centauri and the Shadows…"

"We didn't antagonize them! They went after us! Ah! It's no use talking to you!"

"Nevertheless, Doctor, all the violations occurred."

He seethed at the judicial captain. He couldn't do what he wanted to do to Areel at this moment. Not with an Admiral onboard and not with the Endeavour on her way to Earth.

"Do you believe Captain Kirk was emotionally and psychologically fit for the command of a starship?"

"What's this bloody bull—!" At a sharp look from Areel, McCoy subsided. "Of course, he was."

"What about Khan Noonien Singh? Why didn't the captain visit Ceti Alpha V and check up on the Augments' progress there, like he promised?"

"He was busy."

"Because he allowed Khan Singh exile on Ceti Alpha V, Captain Clark Terrell of the Reliant died, many scientists on the Regula 1 station murdered, the Federation's Genesis research derailed and hijacked. Doctor, James Kirk should have brought Khan to trial on Earth while he still had him."

"Oh, would that be any better? Instead of one single starship, he'd have an entire planet to hijack!"

xXx

"So you are saying Captain Kirk had no control over the Enterprise. He let an alien device take it to an alternate universe."

"No, sir," said Uhura. "That's not what I'm saying. We came to investigate the disappearance of a civilian science vessel."

"In spite of direct orders to come to Earth. Yet, he went for a…'joyride' which led to the loss of the ship. Isn't that so?"

"Not exactly, sir."

"One way or another, Commander Uhura, Kirk lost control of the ship. Is that true?"

"Yes, but that's not how it happened."

"So, the answer is yes."

Uhura was completely frustrated as Areel made notes.

xXx

"How would you characterize your relationship with Captain Kirk?"

Spock looked at Areel over steepled fingers. "We are officers of the Federation Starfleet who have known each other for many years."

Areel leaned in toward the Vulcan. "Everything said here is confidential, Captain. You can be completely open with me."

"About what?" said Spock with a raised eyebrow.

"About how you feel about serving with a man who has been closer to you than anyone else, including your family, who has drawn you away from the women of your life such as T'Pring, Zarabeth and Leila Kalomi?"

"My personal feelings about Captain Kirk are irrelevant to this investigation. And none of your business."

Areel sat looking at Spock in silence for a while. When he wasn't forthcoming, she decided to move on to other matters.

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk has been charged by Starfleet Command and the Federation President. The charges are conspiracy; assault on Federation officers; theft of Federation property, namely the starship Enterprise; sabotage of the USS Excelsior; willful destruction of Federation property, specifically the aforementioned USS Enterprise; and finally, disobeying direct orders of Starfleet Command…."

"All of those charges were dropped by President Hiram Roth himself. Except, of course, for the disobedience—which has already been addressed by the President." Spock peered at Areel closely before continuing: "Mister Shaw, this line of questioning is illogical. You have talked to everyone who were on the Enterprise. I believe that you have enough information to draw a conclusion to your investigation."

Spock stood up and added, "This display of illogic has gone long enough."

xXx

Admiral Nogura looked tired as he and Spock watched each other carefully.

"The investigation you have ordered, Admiral," Spock said finally, "is illogical, has little foundation and disrespectful of the memory of a man who has saved Federation civilization several times and has not complained about lack of appreciation shown him by that same civilization. Admiral Nogura, tell me exactly what you need to know."

"I need a little more time, Spock."

"Harassment for the sake of a secret agenda is not productive."

"Don't worry, Captain. Captain Shaw's report is almost ready."

Spock looked into Nogura's eyes, sending the message that he wouldn't budge from his next request. "I wish to be here when she presents the report."

"That has always been my intention." Nogura activated the intercom button in his desk. "Captain Shaw, report to my quarters."

"_On my way, sir."_

"I regret this," said Spock. "I regret the distrust that Starfleet Command has shown toward us and the disrespect for Captain Kirk."

"I know. Believe me, Spock, I regret that too, but it's necessary."

xXx

The refit Constitution class starship Endeavour was still cruising at warp to the Sol System.

xXx

Areel entered Nogura's quarters.

"Sir."

"Please sit down, Mister Shaw. Report."

Spock stood to one side in his black robes, watching Areel and almost, but not quite, glaring at her. The intensity of his gaze made her uncomfortable.

"Admiral, I've done my best to be objective during this investigation. It hasn't been easy. I've personally known James and I've worked with some of his crew in the alternate universe. I've talked with officer after officer and probed the logs. I couldn't find what you asked for, sir. I'm sorry. I did my best."

"Thank you. You're dismissed, Captain Shaw."

"Yes, sir." Areel stood to leave but she paused as she looked at Spock. "Captain Spock, I've been lovers with James for over a year. I…feel the loss as keenly as you do. I'm sorry."

Spock coldly looked at her. "As am I."

She nodded and left. Spock then turned to Nogura and looked at him reprovingly.

"Don't judge her too harshly. Areel's a good officer."

"It's not her I'm judging."

"Don't judge me too harshly either," said Nogura defensively. "We had to be very sure of you." At Spock's expression of subtle surprise, he added, "Not just you, but everyone involved with Captain Kirk. We're aware of his shortcomings and his importance to the Federation. We had to be sure of your…place in the Federation. You see, some time ago, a few of us in Starfleet Command became suspicious of problems within the Federation."

"Problems?" Spock didn't like the feeling that the Federation may not be as much the home as he remembered. He idly wondered if the rift not only opened to Babylon 5's universe, but also to yet more universes which were subtly different to that of his home reality.

"Something or someone is trying to destroy the Federation."

A small chill went through Spock before he suppressed it. Has the Shadows touched the Federation? "What is your evidence?"

"I can't get into that. Too many other people are involved. If we're right, this is the most critical time in the history of the Federation. Even more so than the Khitomer Accords.

"What do you want?" asked Spock. It then struck him that he asked the question that Mr. Morden once asked of Jim. He dismissed it as an artifact of his mourning period.

"I don't know if the threat is coming from inside or outside. I need people I can trust in strong positions throughout the Federation."

Spock wondered if that was the correct method of response to this vague threat. "As soon as I return to Earth, I am to be promoted to the admiralty."

"I know. That's not enough. I need you close. Again, I'm sorry for the investigation. I had to be sure that you weren't co-opted."

The Vulcan remembered an old human saying: Out of the frying pan and into the fire. "This is politics, Admiral. Subterfuge. It's unworthy of a Vulcan."

"Yet, you've had some experience of that. Even if I'm wrong, and I hope I am, I need you on Earth, at the heart of everything. The Khitomer Conspiracy scandal is still making upheavals at Headquarters. The Federation does not need that. It's a reminder of the old scandal over Vaughn Rittenhouse's corruption and plot for a military coup. It's distracting us from the real problems: the Borg, the rising tension with the Romulans, that alien threat you've found in the alternate universe…'Shadows,' I think you call them. Having you, a protégé of Captain Kirk, at Headquarters would encourage the people to trust Starfleet again."

"What would you have us do?" Spock didn't want to stay on Earth. He remembered Morella's prophecy.

"Be Commandant of Starfleet Academy. Doctor McCoy can be Chair of Starfleet Medical. Commander Uhura will be in Starfleet Intelligence."

Spock couldn't quite take in the power that the former Enterprise officers would be wielding, thanks to Admiral Nogura. "It's…not something that I can decide right now."

Nogura nodded with understanding. "I'll talk to McCoy and Uhura. But, Captain, I need an answer soon. Don't take too long. I'm serious about our suspicions of a threat to the Federation."

**Hyperspace**

**Somewhere in Federation territory**

A Shadow cruiser flew on in its course. The stars of this universe were in similar positions as those in the Shadow's home universe. All they needed was to compensate for the stellar drift due to the mystery of each universe being in a different point in time. There were no hyperspace beacons in this universe. Oh, there were a few faint echoes of ancient beacons, but they were unreliable due to age. Besides, the Shadows had not needed to rely on beacons for millennia.

It had been slowly moving from the rift near Starbase 10, unseen by the Federation while under interphased cloak. So far, no one in the Federation knew about this Shadow vessel.

**USS Endeavour**

"Commandant of Starfleet Academy!"

"Doctor," said Spock, "I do not see how that is exciting to you."

McCoy's eyes bulged at his friend. "Don't you see! You'll be able to shape the minds of future leaders of Starfleet!" Suddenly he stopped at his own words. "My word…. That means Starfleet in the future would be Vulcanized! I take it back. You're right. It's a bad choice." The doctor's eyes gleamed with humor.

"Please, Doctor, I do not have the ambition for such a thing. 'Vulcanizing', as you call it, should remain among Vulcans."

The aging human smirked knowingly. "What about all that jazz about IDIC?"

Patiently, Spock said, "I have not decided—"

A bosun's whistle sounded. _"Bridge to Captain Spock."_

The Vulcan pressed his intercom button. "Spock here."

"_We're receiving a Code Forty-Seven, sir. Starfleet emergency frequency."_

McCoy frowned, instantly concerned. "Captain's eyes only…."

"I do not see the relevance. I am not the captain of the Endeavour. Should she not take care of it?"

"_Well, sir, it's addressed to you."_

Spock and McCoy looked at each other, confused. "Relay it to my quarters."

"Should I be gone?"

Spock shook his head. "Please remain outside the visual range." He turned to his computer monitor which was now showing the official seals of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets. A female computer voice addressed Spock.

"_This is an emergency communiqué. It is not to be discussed with fellow officers unless deemed absolutely necessary. There will be no computer record of said transmission."_

"Understood."

"_Proceed with voice print identification and retina scan."_

"Spock, son of Sarek. Captain, USS Enterprise." He then leaned forward for the computer to scan his eyes and verify his identification.

"_Voice print and retina scan verified."_

The seals faded out and the image of a wizened Vulcan man appeared. Spock was surprised. It was his own father, Sarek. Why was he using an emergency Starfleet frequency?

"Father."

"_My son. It is agreeable to see you. Your mother is relieved at the news of your return."_

"Tell my mother that I am…fine."

Sarek arched an eyebrow at his son's use of humor and reminder of the last time they were face to face.

"Father, why are you on a Starfleet channel, especially this particular emergency frequency?"

Sarek seemed to pause and to collect his thoughts before answering. _"It was a difficult decision. The actions we need may balance out the risk."_

It was Spock's turn to arch an eyebrow at his father. Sarek was a highly respected ambassador throughout the Federation and beyond. For him to worry about risk was unusual. "Risk?"

"_I have recently talked with Admiral Nogura."_

McCoy widened his eyes at Spock from beside the computer screen. If Ambassador Sarek agreed with Admiral Nogura's apparent paranoia, then it must be serious.

Spock said, "Can you explain the basis for this?"

The aging ambassador surprised Spock by appearing to suspiciously study his son. _"I cannot explain now. We need to meet."_

Illogic upon illogic, thought Spock. Has it infected Sarek as well? "I do not understand. You are using a Code Forty-Seven. I must know what is happening."

"_No. Not over subspace."_

"Father, you are aware this is a secure channel."

"_I am. We will meet at P'Jem."_

"We are expected at Earth."

"_Indeed. Admiral Nogura has agreed to divert the Endeavour there. Once there, you will hear what I have to say."_

Spock was feeling confused. Judging by his expression, McCoy was confused as well. Spock would have argued with his father and resented this remote control. Still, he was mesmerized by the urgency in Sarek's voice.

"_Something is happening, my son."_ The aging Vulcan leaned forward and whispered, _"Have you felt it, Spock? An infestation…."_

Spock looked at his father worriedly. This sudden show of emotion and paranoia…. He'd heard of Bendii's Syndrome occurring early among aging and stressed out Vulcans. Meanwhile, Sarek himself was studied Spock long and hard.

"_Do not trust anyone, my son."_

"Father—"

"_We will be waiting at P'Jem."_

Sarek's image vanished, leaving Spock to stare at the blank screen.

xXx

Admiral Nogura watched the starlines streak by the windows of his darkened quarters. His eyes were drawn to the large suitcase he had brought onboard. He went up to it and opened it. Stacked inside were what appeared to be two transporter pads. Nogura took them out, placing them in a line on the floor. They were of a forbidden technology taken from a secret section of Federation Security and Intelligence.

He stepped onto one of the pads, both of which lit up. A column of shimmering and rippling energy glowed upward from the second pad. Inside was the shadow of a humanoid, probably male.

As Admiral Nogura spoke, his voice seemed to pre-echo—sounding a split-second before the real sound came, the opposite of the normal kind of echo. _"Hello, Doctor Claw."_


	30. Prophecies and Conspiracies

**USS Endeavour, enroute to the Ross 128 Star System**

_Personal log, supplemental. I am disturbed by recent events of which the investigation ordered by Admiral Nogura is a part. The Admiral has ordered the Endeavour diverted to P'Jem before continuing the voyage to Earth. Dr. McCoy shares my unease. I must set aside my preoccupation over the death of James Kirk and focus on this development._

_Hope may be an illogical concept, but I find myself hoping that it was merely the product of fevered minds. Fevered minds. Those two words remind me of my illogical consternation concerning the possibility of Bendii's Syndrome in my father. If, as Surak said, logic is the beginning of wisdom, what of illogic?_

"What's P'Jem?"

Spock turned away from his computer. Dr. McCoy was standing in his quarters, waiting for his answer. "P'Jem was an ancient Vulcan monastery established in the Terran 9th century BCE. In the century before the forming of the Federation, it was used as a surveillance outpost to spy on the Andorians. That distasteful aspect was found out by the Andorians who then subsequently destroyed the monastery."

"Wait, wait, Spock. Your people used a _monastery_ to spy on other people?"

The Vulcan coolly looked at the doctor. "It was a…shameful time for my people. The Vulcan government was subverted by the military which had allowed fears to dictate their actions."

"Uuuh-huh." McCoy had a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. "So you're telling me that Vulcans weren't always the logical people you're boasting of."

Arched eyebrows showed Spock's humorous disdain. "Doctor, you know very well that we have not 'always' been logical. Were that true, we would have no need for Surak."

"Okay, okay, we're going off track. Why P'Jem? Why the hell are we going there?"

"The monastery of P'Jem has been rebuilt in the early years of the Federation as part of the Andorian effort to creating an intimate relationship with Vulcan. As for the choice of location, I expect that it is due to its isolation and scarcity of witnesses."

"'Scarcity of witnesses'? It's a monastery, Spock. There has to be people there!"

Patiently, Spock said, "The monks there have taken a vow of silence."

McCoy was surprised. "Spock, that's very…human."

"That, Doctor, is a result of human influences. The monastery has reasoned that this ancient practice has merit for meditation on logic. Furthermore, the first monks to return to the planet reasoned that it would be a good way to redeem themselves in light of the illegal surveillance done on the Andorians."

A bosun's whistle sounded, announcing the activation of the ship's intercom. _"Bridge to Captain Spock. We're approaching P'Jem."_

"Thank you," said Spock. "I'm on my way."

"Logic," said McCoy, referring to Spock's explanation before they were interrupted by the bridge. "There are times like this that I wish we have plenty of that."

"So do I, Doctor. So do I."

xXx

Spock, back in his Starfleet uniform, entered the transporter room with Dr. McCoy. The transporter operator stood by, waiting for them.

"Is there anything…untoward, ensign?" queried Spock.

"Well, there are two starships in orbit around the planet. One is the Republic commanded by Thelin, and the other is the Farragut, Captain Bruce Finnegan commanding."

McCoy and Spock exchanged a meaningful look. Both ships were where James Kirk once served in his career, and Finnegan once tormented Kirk in their Academy days. There were too many coincidences related to the late captain.

Spock spoke to quickly break the silence before the ensign could think about that. "Has the coordinates for the monastery been laid in?"

"Yes, sir."

Spock went up to the transporter pad but he stopped when he saw that McCoy was following him.

"Doctor, I'm beaming down alone."

"Alone?" McCoy was alarmed. "It's dangerous! You could—" He stopped at a sharp look from Spock.

"Alone, Doctor." Spock glanced at the transporter operator to be sure of the ensign's naiveté. "A monastery, as you very well know, is hardly a dangerous locale. Ensign, energize."

**P'Jem**

Spock materialized in the small courtyard in front of the massive double doors of the monastery. He was alone. Concluding that he might find answers inside the monastery, he pulled heavily on the thick rope hanging by the doors, ringing the bell.

The double doors opened, revealing a single hooded monk dressed in a white robe. Silently, the monk raised his hand to deliver the Vulcan greeting. Spock returned the greeting silently.

"I am expected," said Spock.

The monk nodded and turned away to walk deeper into the monastery, clearly intending for Spock to follow.

The robed Vulcan led the Starfleet officer into a backroom. Waiting there were three people: Ambassador Sarek, an Andorian and a blond human man, both with the insignia of a starship captain. The monk left, closing the doors behind himself.

Sarek stepped forward, holding his earth-colored robes close to himself. "Spock."

It was then that Spock noticed that the Andorian and the human were aiming phasers at him. With an arched eyebrow directed at them, he responded simply, "Father."

"How do you feel?"

Surprised at the emotion-loaded question, Spock nearly frowned. "As adequately as I can be under the circumstances."

"Ah," said Sarek simply as he slowly stepped closer to Spock. "So you do not feel…fine?"

Now Spock frowned. Yet another emotion-loaded question. "Father, what is the meaning of this? I do not know how this was done, but…." He gestured at the phaser-bearing captains. "…this is illogical, not to mention disrespectful of the monastery's sanctuary."

"Indeed." For a short while, Sarek's eyes slid down to where Spock's neck and shoulder met. Surely, he wasn't thinking about knocking Spock out with a Vulcan pinch? His fear of Bendii's in his father increased.

But now Sarek was close to Spock. His father raised an arm, reaching for the Vulcan captain's neck. Spock tensed, expecting a pinch to send him into unconsciousness. Inside, he was feeling very bewildered, confused and alarmed, but he showed none of that on his face. He could resist, but there was little he could do with two Starfleet captains pointing phasers at him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know if the phasers were set on stun.

Sarek touched Spock's shoulder and gently grasped it. Spock waited for the pinch. The moment stretched on until he realized that a pinch wasn't forthcoming. Oddly, Sarek appeared to look as relieved as only someone who has known him for a long time could tell. His father released him. He nodded once at the others who then lowered and holstered their phasers.

"Father, perhaps it is past time that I am aware of the cause of this meeting."

"Indeed. Spock, meet Captains Thelin and Finnegan."

The Andorian, who was smiling, offered Spock his pale-blue hand. Spock shook it, feeling surreal. The last time he had met Thelin was in an alternate timeline where he was the executive officer on the Enterprise and Spock had died as a child. According to Thelin's perspective, it was the first time that Spock met him.

"Do you know, Spock, that I was once considered for a post on the Enterprise?"

A chill went through Spock. It was a feeling akin to what humans described as someone walking on his grave, macabre as that was. He replied noncommittally, "Indeed."

"Still, it's an honor to command a ship that once had Captain Kirk serving aboard."

Spock turned his gaze to the human blond man. He also recognized him. "Bruce Finnegan. You were in the Academy with James Kirk."

Finnegan chuckled. "Of course! You would know me! I got a good laugh when I read of your mission on the Amusement Park Planet."

"Father?" By calling on Sarek, Spock showed he wanted to know what's going on.

"We came in secret, my son, to discuss a threat."

"Yes. I was told that there was a threat. Vaguely, I might add."

Thelin said, "Have you noticed anything about Starfleet Command lately? Anything unusual?"

"We have been in the alternate universe and had no contact with Command until recently. We may have been gone for quite a while but once contact with Command has been reestablished, Starfleet has been indeed behaving unusually. They forced us to choose between going back to Earth and leaving a few ships behind to help Babylon 5 or staying and be court-martialed with absolutely no help for Babylon 5 whatsoever."

The captains and the ambassador looked at each other. "Is that all?" asked Finnegan.

"Yes."

Sarek said, "Some of us have discerned emerging patterns. Unusual orders, such as the one you've received; high-ranking officials supporting irrational proposals—"

"—Starbase 6, near Qualor, has been ordered to shut down all subspace and hyperspace experiments and completely evacuated for two days, no explanation given," interjected Finnegan.

"And what about the deaths?" put in Thelin. "Xon, Harry Morrow, James Styles, Shakti Jataras."

Spock was stunned. Xon was the Vulcan science officer of the Enterprise in its second five-year mission under Captain Kirk; Harry was an Admiral who'd retired from the post of Commander-in-Chief; James Styles was the first captain of the Excelsior during the Federation's brief experiment with transwarp technology; and Shakti Jataras was Fleet Admiral William Toddman's aide-de-camp. All dead. He turned to his father for confirmation.

"Officially, their deaths were a result of…'accidents'," said Sarek.

Spock had to appreciate the irony. Here they were, discussing suspicious deaths and nebulous threats in a monastery once used in a deception against the old Andorian Imperial Guard. "Do you have evidence?"

"No. Interfleet communications are at a minimum," replied Thelin. "But something is clearly happening."

At the look of skepticism on Spock's face, Finnegan exploded. "Dammit, Spock! Some of Starfleet's top command people are changing! This could affect the very core of the Federation. Hell, your father's here! He agrees with our suspicions! If that's not enough, what will convince you!"

"Indeed," intoned Sarek. "Officers and officials I've known for years are not…themselves."

"That's not enough to threaten the Federation, Father."

"Perhaps. You would still do well to…'keep your eyes open' as the humans would say."

"Of course, Father."

"Keep in contact with us, Spock—discretely. As far as Starfleet—indeed the rest of the Federation—is concerned, this meeting never occurred. I'm going with Captain Thelin to Vulcan to handle this from there. The V'Shar is expecting me. Investigate the patterns yourself, my son, and you'll find yourself agreeing with us."

Spock was surprised again. The V'Shar was another name for Vulcan's Ministry of Security and Intelligence.

Finnegan said with a sly smile, "Watch your back, Spock."

**USS Endeavour, enroute to Earth**

Spock was disturbed to say the least. He hadn't told anyone of his meeting, least of all Dr. McCoy in spite of his incessant badgering about it. He didn't want to implicate any of them, at least until he had hard evidence. Were they all chasing shadows and dust?

Including his father, Ambassador Sarek?

Patterns, his father said.

"Computer, this is Captain Spock. Access all Starfleet Command orders to starships, starbases and colonies, for the past two months." Two months may not be enough, but Spock, even though he was Vulcan, could only handle so much information.

"_Working."_

xXx

On the bridge of the refit Constitution class starship, the captain sat watching his crew work as starlines made a false tunnel on the main viewer.

"Captain…," said the tactical officer, puzzled. "I'm picking up an unusual disturbance in a nearby sector."

"Confirmed," said the navigator. "It's near the Wolf 359 System."

"Be specific. What kind of disturbance?" The captain couldn't be too careful since the odd diversion to P'Jem and the strange lack of communications with those other two starships.

"Hard to say at this distance, Captain Cerra."

"Alter course. Let's investigate."

xXx

"_Bridge to Captain Spock."_

Spock was slightly startled out of his intense study. "This is Spock."

"_Will you come to the bridge?"_

He looked at the readings on his computer screen. It was too interesting to stop now. Suppressing a sigh, he saved the work and shut it off. "On my way."

xXx

Spock came out of the turbolift and saw that the whole crew was looking at the main viewer. Clearly, he was summoned for something there. All he could see were what looked like a slowly expanding field of boulders.

Spock was slightly annoyed. He was summoned away from his work for this? "Captain Cerra, what is the relevance of this to me?"

The captain looked at Spock, carefully keeping his face neutral. "Lieutenant, magnify."

The boulders now became what looked like twisted pieces of metal—debris from a space vessel.

"Identify," ordered Cerra.

The tactical officer reported, "There's no identifying mark. Sensors are not detecting bodies in the debris field, but judging from the amount of wreckage." She looked at Spock and continued hesitantly. "The field has the mass of a Baton-Rouge-class starship. It could only be the Republic."

Spock was so shocked that his face actually betrayed the emotion and he had to put a hand to a wall to support himself.

"Father…," he whispered.

xXx

The Endeavour was now cautiously moving into the debris field, probing and scanning the remains of the Republic. Occasionally, a piece would vanish in a transporter effect, having been beamed aboard for further analysis.

_Personal log, supplemental. The death of my father Sarek of Vulcan has had a powerful impact on me. Our relationship has not been amicable in the best of time, but as a father, he has had great influence on me, even on my choice of career in Starfleet though he opposed it. Of my family, there is only myself, my mother Amanda Grayson and T'Val, my daughter by Saavik. I now believe there may be a cancer growing within the ranks of Starfleet. I've decided to alert my friend and colleague Doctor McCoy to the suspicions voiced by Sarek and the two Starfleet captains._

"Spock, are you sure? There's no proof." McCoy was looking concerned. He knew that in spite of their claims of emotion control, Vulcans could be affected by family deaths as much as any human.

"Admiral Nogura tried to warn me of a subversion in the Federation. Then Ambassador Sarek, Captains Thelin and Finnegan tried to warn me. Now Thelin and Sarek are dead."

"A conspiracy, Spock?" McCoy rolled his eyes. "Not again! First it's Khitomer and now this. When has we become conspiracy nuts!" The doctor paced around his quarters before finally sitting at Spock's desk. "Okay. I know this looks suspicious. A warning and then death. The Republic's destruction could be an accident."

With an arched eyebrow, Spock said, "I do not believe that the destruction of the Republic was an accident. I believe it was sabotage."

"Spock, there's no evidence. I know the death of your father was a bad blow, but—I can't believe I'm saying this, but I gotta—you have to be clear-headed about this. Be logical. The Endeavour's working around the clock on it but so far we haven't found any evidence of foul play. Not even evidence of weapons fire."

Spock looked patiently back at the doctor. "Doctor, my father's death indeed affected me but I am being logical." He activated the computer screen on his desk. It showed a layout of the charted parts of the galaxy, focusing on Federation space. Certain stars and symbols were highlighted in red. "With my father's warning in mind, I've searched for abnormal patterns in Starfleet's directives. I have not completed my research but I believe we have enough to go on." He pointed at the map. "These are various outposts and starbases where I have detected unusual activity over the past two months."

In spite of himself, McCoy's curiosity was piqued. "What kind of activity?"

"An uncustomary shuffling of personnel, usually in the command positions. The new officers have had abnormally frequent contact with the highest levels of Starfleet Command."

Now the doctor was looking disturbed. If Spock was being serious and was being as Vulcanish as usual, then he would have to take his words seriously. "You noticed it. One single man. Granted, you're Vulcan, but surely others with greater resources have noticed. Why hasn't anyone else noticed it?"

"The orders were given subtly. As is normal in very large organizations and in bureaucracies, various departments wouldn't know what other departments were doing."

"In other words, Spock, Starfleet's left hand didn't know what its right hand was doing."

Spock peered at McCoy. "I wouldn't have put it so eloquently, but that is essentially correct, Doctor."

The doctor studied the map for a while. Pointing at different locations, he said, "A lot of these are vital sectors of Federation territory. If you're right, someone's trying to control them." He looked up at Spock with concern. "A prelude to invasion?"

"I do not know. I have not yet completed my analysis. And I doubt I would be able to get the information for us to know."

"What about Admiral Nogura? He seems to know something."

"Yes…."

xXx

Nogura could never get used to the pre-echo properties of the technology. Whenever he wanted to move a certain way, his body has already moved a split-second before he moved; whenever he spoke, the words came a split-second before his voice sounded them.

"_Why do you persist in calling me 'Doctor Claw', Admiral?"_

Nogura studied the silhouette of the being within the pillar of rippling energy shining upward from a pad identical to the one the admiral was standing on. All he could discern was that the being was humanoid and male.

And from the future.

"_Oh, it's from an ancient entertainment fiction show called 'Inspector Gadget'. In it, there's a leader who spoke in a distorted voice and, despite appearing in almost every episode, was almost never clearly shown. Since you won't give me your name, I thought 'Doctor Claw' is fitting."_

The shadowy head moved as if the humanoid was looking at Nogura from a different angle. Quizzically, the admiral guessed. Did the being know that Claw was a villain in that show? _"What happened? There was a disturbance in the timescape just now."_

Apparently, there were limits even to this being's knowledge. Still, he hesitated before delivering the news. _"The Republic has been destroyed. Ambassador Sarek was on it."_

There was silence as the humanoid digested the news. _"We didn't plan to involve Sarek…not yet. He should have—"_

The doorchime interrupted the conversation. Time to cut this short. Nogura said, _"When will we speak again?"_

"_Don't be concerned with when."_ The figure faded away and a moment later, the pillar of rippling energy vanished. Nogura quickly stepped down and put the pads in a closet. The doorchime rang again.

The admiral made sure he looked like he just stepped out of bed. He had already been dressed for the part in just such an eventuality. "Come."

At least the disturbing pre-echo property was gone with the man from the future.

The door parted to reveal Spock and McCoy.

"Captain…?" Nogura yawned.

"I apologize for disturbing your sleep but we require information."

"About…?"

"The subversion inside the Federation."

Nogura was surprised. He would have expected Spock to be preoccupied with the death of his father. But then he was an exceptional Starfleet officer and a Vulcan on top of that. He glanced at the human doctor. He guessed that since he was with Spock, McCoy could be trusted.

"Go on."

Spock and McCoy explained what they have found out so far, to Nogura's slowly growing alarm. When they were done, he said, "That's exactly what I was afraid of! My God, men, we're talking about a threat to the entire future of the Federation. We shouldn't rest easy until we have this solved." Nogura turned to his windows, seeking answers from the stars. Soon, the stars appeared to move and streak, becoming a flash of whitish rainbow-hued light covering the windows. The flash quickly faded into starlines. The Endeavour had gone to warp. This meant that the vessel's captain felt the investigation of the Republic's wreckage was complete and they were back on course to Earth. Admiral Nogura took two small boxes from a table under the windows. "The Federation public is wary of a protective Starfleet torn apart by scandals such as the Khitomer Conspiracy."

The admiral handed one of the small black boxes to the human doctor. "Doctor McCoy, will you accept the post as Chief of Starfleet Medical?"

Drawn up by the urgency, McCoy said, "I accept." With that, he opened the box and took out his new admiralty insignia.

The second box was handed to the Vulcan. "And, Captain Spock, do you accept the post as Commandant of Starfleet Academy?"

"I do not."

Stunned, Nogura frowned. "You…do not? Why?"

Guardedly, Spock replied, "I have my reasons. I, however, accept the promotion to Admiral." He took the box without opening it. He didn't need to open it to confirm that it indeed contained an admiral's insignia.

"But, as Commandant of the Academy, you can help counter the possibility of a hostile takeover of important Federation sectors!"

"Admiral, I have errands that I must do. The Academy would keep me from doing them."

"What _are_ those errands, Spock?"

"I can only say that they are indeed important to the future of the Federation, perhaps as important as the threat within Starfleet."

Nogura scowled. "I hope so, Admiral Spock. I sincerely hope so."

**Hyperspace, somewhere in Federation territory**

The Shadow warship has determined that it was now between the Federation star systems of Sol and Wolf 359. The body of the bioship rippled and shimmered as it phased into normal space. Once the phasing was complete, a much smaller vessel emerged from the skin of the bioship and moved away from the Shadow. If there were any observer, he would note that the vessel was clearly a Federation shuttlecraft. He would further note the name written on it: Plato, USS Republic NCC 1371.

The shuttle sped up and went to warp, leaving the Shadow ship behind which then phased back into hyperspace.

**USS Endeavour**

Doctor McCoy and the newly-promoted Captain Uhura were in Spock's quarters. The doctor had recruited her to gang up on Spock.

"Doctor," said Admiral Spock, "I have my reasons to refuse the post."

Uhura pointed out, "Spock, we've worked together for years. We've known each other. If you can't trust us after all that time and all the things we've gone through together, what can you do? It is foolish to trust absolutely no one. In that direction, Spock, lies a kind of madness I do not wish on anyone, least of all, you."

"Nyota, I agree." By using Uhura's personal name, Spock was showing how much he appreciated her.

"And…?" pressed McCoy impatiently. "I know you're a private man, but you must tell us. You turned down one of the biggest posts in Starfleet. Why?"

Spock let out a tiny sigh and closed his eyes. He was flashing back to an encounter with Lady Morella.

_Spock grasped Morella's proffered hand. She took a quick sharp breath and closed her eyes at the physical contact._

_A dead barren gray planet hung in space. Then a torpedo case quickly flew at the planet. A massive fiery explosion fountained at the night side, converting itself into an expanding fire which quickly engulfed the entire world, turning night into day, even briefly making the planet seem to be a weakly burning sun. The fire faded. A blue-hued atmosphere slowly appeared on the dead world and bodies of water grew among the mountains and craters. Greenery reached out from the water to cover the land while snow appeared on high mountains. Soon, the gray dead barren planet became a living, breathing Minshara-class world._

_Genesis._

_Lady Morella's eyes flew open in shock._

Spock was a bit steady for a moment. Concerned, McCoy approached him. "You okay?"

"I was…remembering the Lady Morella, daughter of Hudec."

"Ah yes, Doctor Chapel's clone," quipped the doctor. "What of her?"

"She knew about Genesis."

Uhura widened her eyes. "She knew? How?"

"She was a seer."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Tell me another one!"

"Back on Argelius II, Sybo was a seeress and we took her seriously," pointed out Uhura.

The doctor muttered rebelliously at that point. But he wanted Spock to continue his explanation and indicated that.

"Morella was a prophetess as well. She reinforced the claim by saying:

_Morella was seated on her couch beside Spock, staring straight at him. "You've experienced death and resurrection."_

"My God!" exclaimed McCoy as Uhura looked impressed. "She knew about you!"

"Indeed. She also said:

"_You are not supposed to be in this universe. You must reunite your people or the stars shall be rent in blood and fire."_

"And she was right," said Spock. "The second sentence was a prophecy. I am certain that she meant my people and the Romulans."

"'Reunite'?" McCoy was skeptical again.

"That is a major factor in my decision to reject the post of Commandant of Starfleet Academy."

Uhura now looked worried. "We've been hearing about rising tensions between the Federation and the Romulan Empire. How can you do that?"

"By going to Romulus."

McCoy and Uhura were flabbergasted. "Have you taken leave of your Vulcan senses!" bellowed the doctor.

"I've met a Romulan senator at Khitomer. He told me that there has been an underground movement on Romulus since before the Romulan War—a movement in favor of reunification with Vulcan. When we came back, I've contacted Senator Pardek and have remained in touch with him since Starbase 10."

Throwing up his hands, McCoy laughed mirthlessly. "Spock, a modern-day Che Guevara!"

Uhura gently bit her lower lip. "I'll be transferring to Starfleet Intelligence. I…think I might help you there."

"Et tu, Uhura?"

Spock ignored the quip. "There were two more prophecies from Lady Morella:

"_You must beware the man who remembers Surak's face." Morella's eyes softened with sympathy. "If you would have your friend live, he must die."_

"What kind of ridiculous thing is that! Surak's been dead for _centuries_! No one remembers him! And how can someone live by dying!"

"I do not presume to know, Doctor. However, there is one possibility:

_On a planet supposedly hostile to humanoid life, a young-looking Surak in an archaic-seeming tunic raised his right hand and parted fingers in the traditional Vulcan greeting. "Peace and long life."_

"The Excalbian incident?" said Uhura.

"But then…Morella could only mean you!" suggested McCoy. "Jim's dead, so you're the only one left to 'remember' Surak!"

"It is intriguing," commented Spock. "She may mean that I must beware myself. Is there not an old Terran adage that your worst enemy is yourself?"

"What about the friend who must die?" McCoy looked at Spock nervously. "Would it be…me?"

"I do not know, Doctor. I hope not." Spock looked at the windows along with the others. The Endeavour, at this moment, was dropping out of warp and the distant blue penny-sized dot of Earth could be seen. "I will seek answers. I am certain that we will find the necessary answers soon."

**Elsewhere**

The shuttle Plato was, at this moment, coasting into the Sol System at low warp. It was passing the ringed planet Saturn.

**Earth Spacedock**

Spock had settled in his new quarters on the massive starbase in orbit around Earth. He had lit the single candle under a mirror. He studied himself the mirror in the dark. If he was to be his own worst enemy, he must then know himself. The new admiral turned to a glass of chamomile tea sitting on a dresser. He could see the irony of using a human drink to calm himself when he had logic at his fingertips.

He studied himself drinking the tea. If he was McCoy, he would imagine that seeing a Vulcan looking over the rim of a tea glass would look decidedly menacing. Was the human side of himself letting his imagination run away?

The door to his quarters chimed for his attention.

Who could it be at this late hour? Perhaps it was Doctor McCoy coming again with his emotional concerns, or Captain Uhura coming with new information concerning the Romulan Star Empire.

"Enter."

The door opened and the figure, darkly silhouetted by the bright light of the outside corridor, stepped in. The figure didn't have the contours or the size of either McCoy or Uhura. Spock remembered his father's news of the 'mysterious' deaths of various Starfleet officers and he tensed.

The person came closer to the candle's light, bringing well known features into view.

"Hello, Spock."

The tea glass slipped from Spock's fingers and fell to the floor. Both the tea glass and Spock's world shattered in the same instant of time.


	31. Severing of Bonds

"The most dangerous follower is the one whose defection would destroy the whole party: hence, the best follower." –Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900), German philosopher, classical scholar and culture critic

**Flashback**

_The Borg cube cruised on a trajectory that would have it going past the planet Saturn. Three Earth Alliance Olympus-class corvettes flew at the cube from the vicinity of the Saturnian moon Titan. The Borg easily destroyed the corvettes one by one. Almost without a pause, the cube moved on towards Jupiter._

_President William Morgan Clark at his desk in EarthDome, looking serious and sorrowful. "Fellow citizens of Earth, I have heard your pleas for increased planetary security in the face of this alien threat…."_

_A river of golden glowing squid-like objects appeared out of nowhere. The Ancient torpedoes immediately swarmed at the Borg cube in Jupiter orbit. The river seemed to almost wrap itself around the cube, burning its way into various parts of the vessel, blowing the Borg apart._

_Kirk chuckled. "It is our fate to die sooner or later. I prefer later."_

_The ruined remains of the Borg cube tractored in the Enterprise's stardrive section until the starship's warp core breached and destroyed the Borg in a mini-nova explosion._

_The human interrogator collected his papers and folder, stuffing them into a leather briefcase. A flicker of regret and distaste crossed his long face as a beefy EarthForce officer took his turn with Kirk on Mars. The officer, after having Kirk restrained at the table, almost lovingly caressed the captain's knuckles with the tip of a bat. He lifted the baseball bat, swung it around in a circle like an ax, and with all his strength, brought it smashing down._

_Judicial Captain Areel Shaw said, "The Federation does not take kindly to having its citizens, especially one so esteemed like Captain Kirk, abducted."_

"_Suppose this cockamamie plan of yours start a full scale war?" said Doctor McCoy._

_The starship Excelsior ran straight through a field of defense satellites protecting Mars. Thin laser beams from the satellites struck its shields, lighting up small points. The starship expertly retaliated with phaser fire—a series of quick bursts, destroying the satellites with ease._

_Areel's smile didn't have any humor in it. "Then, quite frankly, Doctor, we can clean their chronometers."_

_The terrifyingly familiar visage of a huge spidery vessel seemingly made of black crude oil rose from the surface of Mars. A shriek sounded._

_Captain Sulu half-stood from his command chair with wide eyes. "My…God!"_

_Screaming, the Shadow pivoted and fired at a Soyuz-class starship. The purple beam rammed into the starship's shields, causing it to be pushed back, exposing the underside of its saucer section. Still firing, the Shadow beam quickly drained the shields in a few seconds and drilled straight through the saucer section._

_With a final scream, the Shadow ship shimmered and faded out of sight._

"_Lemme tell you, Spock," said Dr. McCoy. "I think there's something fishy going on at Starfleet Command."_

_Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan studied his son in the monastery at P'Jem._

_Captain Bruce Finnegan said with a sly smile, "Watch your back, Spock."_

_A Shadow ship phased into normal space and made its way to its homeworld, backlit by a flame-colored nebula._

"_Z'ha'dum," said Kosh._

_In his quarters at Earth Spacedock, Admiral Spock lit a single candle in front of a mirror. He studied himself the mirror in the darkness held at bay by the candle. The Vulcan turned to a glass of chamomile tea sitting on a dresser. He studied himself drinking the tea._

_The door to his quarters chimed for his attention._

"_Enter."_

_The door opened and the figure, darkly silhouetted by the bright light of the outside corridor, stepped in. Spock tensed._

_The person came closer to the candle's light, bringing well known features into view._

"_Hello, Spock."_

_The tea glass slipped from Spock's fingers and fell to the floor. Both the tea glass and Spock's world shattered in the same instance of time._

Doctor McCoy nearly ran down the corridor. Turning a corner, Uhura appeared to join him.

"Got the message, didn't you?"

"Yes, Doctor."

The message had sounded frantic, if a Vulcan's calm voice could be called frantic. McCoy had thought it frantic because it sounded tense and slightly hurried. For a Vulcan, that was getting close to hysterics.

They arrived at Spock's door and went in without the usual courtesy of warning of their entrance. They halted in their tracks and gaped at the spectacle. Spock was standing by a mirror, the shattered remains of a tea glass beside his feet, and standing before him was a man they had thought dead.

James Kirk.

"Jim? My God!"

Kirk shrugged casually. "Remember I said that it's our fate to die sooner or later and that I prefer later? Guess it's later for me."

McCoy glanced at Spock. Spock had been adamant about losing his sense-bond of Kirk which could only mean that he died. Maybe he did die and was somehow restored to life.

Restored by whom? And how?

Uhura looked concerned. "Captain…. Are you all right? What happened?"

Kirk shrugged again. "I escaped. It's what I do best."

McCoy had to give him that. He did have a peculiar talent for escaping impossible situations. Though Jim's eyes shifted around the room as if he didn't feel safe. Well, he had been tortured and then kidnapped. He'd had his share of torture experiences and surely he'd reached his limits at Mars. Anyone would be nervous after that. Speaking of torture…. The experienced doctor could see that Kirk's right hand looked stiff.

The captain saw McCoy studying his hand. Self-consciously, he held and gently massaged it with his left hand. "It was worse than it looks right now. It's fine."

McCoy nodded, saying nothing. He was relieved to see that Kirk was perfectly fine.

"How did you get here?" The question came from Spock.

Kirk blinked. "In a ship, of course."

"Spock," admonished McCoy.

The Vulcan glanced at the doctor coolly. "James, how is it that you came into this universe without Starbase 10 knowing of your passage?"

Both McCoy and Uhura were surprised. Spock had called Kirk 'James' instead of 'Jim,' a sign that he no longer trusted him. The doctor could see that Kirk noticed.

"There are…agents. I didn't want them to get wind of me until I'm safely here, at Earth."

"Agents," echoed Spock, giving no hint of his opinion.

"Yes. I was kidnapped because of agents and I'm not about to let them touch me again."

McCoy saw a hardness come across Kirk's face that went with the steel edge in his voice. He'd seen him hard before, but this was a different kind.

He didn't want to see him pushed to open anger.

Still, Kirk went through terrible torture and who knows what other experiences! He exchanged a look with Uhura. She noticed as well. She appeared to be compassionately sympathetic toward Kirk.

Kirk continued, "Because of those agents and other forces, the Federation's in danger. Maybe the greatest danger since the last Terran global war." Spock arched an eyebrow at that. "Which is why I'm here. I'm meeting the Admiralty about this very soon." Kirk saw the time on Spock's chronometer. "Which is just a few minutes from now. I have to go. Well, Spock, Bones, Uhura. It's good to be back." With that, he left the quarters.

Once the doors closed behind the captain, McCoy turned on Spock. "What's the hell wrong with you?! The man went through a horrific experience and you…you were cold to him! I imagine that's not the kind of welcome he'd want."

Spock coolly looked at the doctor. "You are aware of my previous bond with him. He died. Of that, I am certain. When I came back in the fal-tor-pan ceremony, the bond came back. This time, it has not come back. Something's changed. James is not Jim."

Uhura looked uncertain. "Still, Spock, he's human. Anyone would change because of the kind of experience he went through."

"Do you know what he has experienced, Nyota? Leonard?"

Uhura and McCoy were silent.

"That is what we must find out."

**Starfleet Headquarters**

**San Francisco, North America, Earth**

The debriefing was over. The medaled brass of Starfleet rose out of their seats and filed out of the conference room. The room was empty except for James Kirk and a middle-aged admiral.

Kirk said, "Admiral Toddman. It's good to see you again, sir."

The Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet shook hands with Captain Kirk. "What is Starfleet without its best starship commander? With you and your crew back home, hopefully it will be a little easier to deal with the problems facing the Federation today."

"Hopefully," agreed Kirk. "I know that I'm due for retirement, but the Federation's in danger. Something has to be done about the Borg and these Shadows."

The Fleet Admiral nodded. "That's where you come in. Due to your experience, you know more about the Shadows than anyone else in Starfleet. You're one of the few to ever survive a direct confrontation with the Borg. That's why, effective immediately, I'm promoting you to admiral and giving you back the post of Starfleet Operations."

Kirk grinned. He didn't seem surprised. "Thanks, Bill. I know it takes a lot for you to promote someone who has been as allergic to desk jobs as me."

Toddman chuckled. "Just think of it this way: you'll be commanding many starships all at once instead of just the one."

The newly-promoted admiral only smiled back in silence. It has been well known that James Kirk wasn't suited to the admiralty. The best position for him was in the command chair of a starship. But these were new days, different times. Once, a single starship was enough to handle individual crises. Now there were several crises facing the Federation at the same time: the war footing with the Earth Alliance and the Centauri Republic, the menacing specter of the Shadows, the rising tensions with the Romulan Star Empire, the support of the new InterStellar Alliance which could fracture at any moment due to old League legacies, the possibility of further Borg incursions and the possibility of a conflict with the Vorlon Empire.

One starship cannot handle all of that. That was part of the debriefing.

"Congratulations, Admiral Kirk," said Toddman. He added with a humorous wink, "Again."

"Thank you, sir."

"Oh, Admiral, before you go, the Vice-President wants to see you."

Kirk was slightly surprised. "Talbot? What does he want?"

"I think you'd better go to the Palais and find out."

**Earth Spacedock**

_Spock's flagship shook under enemy fire. The Vulcan's face twisted with anger and frustration at the Klingon ships making maneuvers in his viewscreen. Vengeful disruptor beams lashed the fleet that Spock was leading._

"_Admiral! We must go!"_

_Spock looked to a young Vulcan woman. "T'Val. This is not the time to argue."_

"_No, Admiral. We must go. You are too important."_

_The flagship lurched under phaser fire, causing Spock to stumble. He watched with satisfaction as glowing blue stars of the augmented photon torpedoes flew from beneath the viewscreen and exploded into the enemy armada. Truly, the dreadnought was living up to its promise. Sadly, it wouldn't be enough to deter the enemy alliance._

"_Remember, Admiral: The needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many."_

"_Illogical." But Spock said that with wry humor. He looked upon T'Val with barely hidden pride. "But you have a point. There is no logic in delaying. Perhaps I have thrown too many stones in our glass house."_

_T'Val was confused. "Glass house?"_

_Giving her a hint of a smile, he said, "It's a human phrase."_

"_Well, if the Alliance had its way, human phrases won't even survive. Come on, Father!"_

_Spock looked at the viewscreen. A Cardassian ship, at this moment, was ramming into a refit Constitution-class starship. Flames swallowed both before quickly dying in the cold vacuum of space. In the viewscreen, hundreds of starships and thousands people were dying. In it, a glass empire was shattering._

"_Very well."_

_T'Val stepped up to her father, looking very image of her mother, T'Pring. She looked at him for a while and shot him with her phaser._

Spock woke.

He managed to force the impulsive sigh to escape slowly through his nose. The dream was another piece of memory that drifted from his subconscious. It was a result of his first transition from his universe into the Babylon 5 universe. During it, he experienced many of the alternate lives he could have had as well as the lives he led in alternate universes. One of the lives that he didn't care to remember was that of Spock in the Terran Empire. In it, he watched Tiberius murder Christopher Pike for the Enterprise's captaincy; turn Balok into a stuffed specimen after torturing him for First Federation secrets; leave Pavel Chekov in an agony booth set on a low setting for days until he became a dried up corpse; amputate Carol Marcus' hands before slitting her throat; drain the blood out of Captain Garrovick's body; had twenty people, including Leonard McCoy, Montgomery Scott, Janice Rand, Hikaru Sulu, Nyota Uhura, Marlena Moreau and Jabilo M'Benga, hanged at the gallows in front of Starfleet Headquarters in an Imperial purge.

And then he betrayed Emperor Tiberius in a coup. Even though Spock knew that Tiberius was nothing like Jim Kirk and that it was in another life and another universe, his heart and mind rebelled against the concept of betraying one who had been his dearest friend.

After reforming the Terran Empire, Spock witnessed the bloody replacement of the Terran Empire by another empire even more abhorrent, thanks to his own reforms.

Spock shut his eyes against the memories. He knew that he shouldn't feel guilt at permitting the actions. He wasn't the Spock that allowed such atrocities to occur.

Yet, he was intellectually intrigued by such a different turn that the Mirror Universe took. Just as he was intrigued by the fact that instead of T'Pring in the Mirror Universe, he mated with Saavik and still had a daughter named T'Val in this universe.

He shivered as he remembered a warning he gave to the mirror Sulu: "I do not want to command the Enterprise, but if it should befall me, I suggest that you remember that my operatives would avenge my death…and some of them…are Vulcans."

Why was he dreaming of life in the Mirror Universe now? Spock knew that the human mind sometimes tossed pieces of answers like a person tossing bread pieces for the pigeons. Since he was half-human, he sometimes allowed himself the temptation to analyze his dreams.

What was his subconscious trying to tell him?

**Palais de la Concorde**

**Paris, European Alliance, Earth**

The Third Empire style edifice stood tall, overshadowing the Place de la Concorde and the River Seine. On the fifteenth floor, Admiral Kirk was entering the Red Room.

The Federation Vice-President stood behind his desk. The last time Kirk had seen St. John Talbot was when the Enterprise returned home from its adventure at Sha-Ka-Ree. He had been the Federation representative at the failed colony of Nimbus III until Sybok came and the three major powers had to admit the failure of the Planet of Galactic Peace.

Talbot smiled. "Admiral. It's been a long time. I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances."

Kirk shrugged. "The galaxy always needs rescuing. It just can't help it."

Talbot blinked at the blunt statement and then laughed before seating himself, prompting Kirk to take a seat as well. "I've gotten too used to politicians and their oblique way of talking. You are exactly what we need."

The admiral was puzzled. "I am? I'm an admiral and the Chief of Starfleet Operations. What more can I do?"

"Plenty more, I hope. Precautions are advisable in these times. The incident at the alternate Mars has convinced me of that. I believe that the threats warrant a change in Federation government."

"What…kind of change?" Kirk appeared suspicious. He had known that Talbot supported more government involvement in Federation affairs. His choice as Vice-President had been controversial among many of the member worlds. But the Council accepted him with the condition that President Ra'ghoratreii did not acquiesce to Talbot's federalism and continued the presidential role of being merely first among the Councilors.

"We had thought that we wouldn't need the militarism of Starfleet anymore once we signed the Khitomer Accords with the Klingon Empire. Your discovery of the alternate universe has changed that."

"I thought you were a man of peace?"

"Oh, I am, Admiral. I have come to realize that the security of the Federation cannot be maintained without an intimate cooperation between the civilian government and Starfleet."

Kirk appeared concerned. "What are you proposing?"

"Don't worry. I'm not trying to blur the line dividing the civilian and military authorities. My proposal is this: that you join the President's Cabinet as the Starfleet liaison in the Palais."

"Don't you have a Secretary of Defense for that?"

"Yes, yes. But she's not currently serving in Starfleet. And she's not in the thick and thin of Starfleet Command. We need someone to bring Starfleet Command directly to the President."

Kirk stood up. "I'm sorry, Mr. Talbot, but I must refuse."

Talbot sighed heavily. "I wouldn't normally propose this, but these aren't normal times. We are suddenly faced with a whole new set of nations, many of which are hostile to us."

"We can handle the Earth Alliance and the Centauri Republic," Kirk said stiffly. "Sulu has proven that at Alliance Mars. I've proven that at Babylon 5. Besides, the Centauri have their own problems with their conquests and are busy on more than twenty war fronts, and the Earth Alliance is in a state of civil war."

"And the best way to unite a nation is to have a war with another nation," replied Talbot dryly. "Thanks to your debriefing, we now know that those nations are allied with a powerful and advanced species. We cannot afford to ignore that. And we cannot afford to alert them by officially acknowledging the fact. Admiral, this new position would be a precaution. Besides, they are not the only ones we need to deal with. There's the Vorlons and the Romulans."

"Then deal with them one by one. May I suggest dealing with the Romulans first?"

Talbot sighed heavily again. "There's only so much I can do. Ra'ghor will be disappointed with your refusal. Very well." The Vice-President jotted down a note in a compadd. "I don't know how we can deal with the Romulans. It's a very sticky situation. Their government is understandably upset about our new alliance with the Klingons but the Klingon Empire isn't strong enough yet to support us if it comes to blows with the Romulan Empire. That's in spite of the fact that the Klingons are fighting a proxy war with the Romulans through the Narns and the Centauri. And if it does come to blows, we would have to reduce our economic support of the Klingon Empire which then might very well return it to its path of 50 years of life."

"Isn't Romulus sending someone to replace Nanclus?"

Talbot smiled softly at fond memories. "Yes. Ambassador Caithlin Dar."

"You once had a connection with her. Use it. If she still remembers you, use her to open negotiations with the Romulan Empire. We may need them later."

The Vice-President brightened at the idea. "Say! Ra'ghor would love adding another historic peace treaty to his presidential résumé. Admiral, you may not be the Starfleet Liaison at the Palais but you're already giving us good advice."

Unsmilingly, Kirk said, "Glad to be of service."

**Earth Spacedock**

Admiral Spock was working at a desk computer. He didn't like how the destruction of the Republic has been ruled as the result of an accidental warp core breach. It was too convenient. Moreover, it only reinforced Sarek's warnings. A short beep announced the activation of the starbase intercom system.

"_Control Tower to Admiral Spock. Minister Taerik of Vulcan Security is standing by on a secure channel."_

The V'Shar was prompt as usual. Spock pressed a button in his desk. "Put it through to my computer."

The desktop monitor activated, displaying the image of Taerik, a middle-aged Vulcan man dressed in a dark grey uniform, sitting at a chair in a bronze-colored office on Vulcan.

"_Greetings, Admiral. How may I be of service?"_

"Minister, I wish to know the object of the intended meeting between Ambassador Sarek and V'Shar."

"_I do not understand."_

Spock blinked. As Minister of V'Shar, Taerik should have known everything significant that occurred within the Ministry and to its operatives. And Ambassador Sarek was certainly significant. "Minister, my father informed me that he was on the way to meet the V'Shar concerning…a certain threat to the Federation. The ship he was on, the Republic, was destroyed en route."

There was a pause as Taerik seemed to be thinking. He looked at Spock with a puzzled expression. _"Admiral, I believe there is a problem. Ambassador Sarek was not scheduled to meet us. If that was indeed his intention, then it was with individuals claiming to be operatives of V'Shar or operatives that have not reported to me."_

Spock looked blankly at the screen for a moment. As a Vulcan, the Minister had no reason to lie, especially when trusted with something as important as the security of Vulcan and her colonies. Then he started to realize something. "Minister, I would appreciate any information on the Republic and Ambassador Sarek that you can divulge at any time."

Taerik nodded solemnly. _"Very well, Admiral Spock."_

Once the monitor screen replaced the Vulcan minister with the Federation symbol, Spock immediately pressed the intercom button in his desk. "Admiral Spock to Control Tower."

"_This is Control Tower. Go ahead."_

"Did Admiral Kirk come in a ship?"

"_Yes, sir."_

"Which one?"

"_Let me check. Please hold on, Admiral."_

Spock waited. It would only be a moment, thanks to the famed Starfleet efficiency. But then, the wait stretched on. Vulcans were disciplined to be a patient people but such a long wait was unusual even in Starfleet's convoluted bureaucracy. Spock was momentarily tempted to tell the operator to hurry up but that would be the height of rudeness and illogic.

"_I apologize for the delay, Admiral. It appears that the information has been classified."_

Spock raised an eyebrow. That was unusual. "By whose authority?"

"_Fleet Admiral William Toddman."_

Now Spock raised both eyebrows. Why would the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet classify the identity of a vessel? What was he hiding? "Thank you, Control Tower. Spock out."

Now there was only one person who may help him. He pressed the intercom button once more. "Admiral Spock to Captain Uhura. Please report to my quarters."

xXx

Captain Uhura had to create circumstances in which she could excuse herself from work. Technically, she was stealing time but Admiral Spock was a friend and a colleague with whom she had worked for over two decades. Nothing could push that kind of relationship to the side. And knowing him, he would only call for her for good reason. She wondered what could have caused Spock to call for her so urgently.

When she entered Spock's quarters, she could see Spock contemplating a bronze bust of a helmeted Vulcan male. She wondered why he had this particular bust brought to his quarters. It depicted Shariel, the ancient Vulcan god of death.

"Admiral Spock, is there something I can do for you?" she said with a fond smile.

"I need to…corroborate someone's story."

"Whose?"

Spock paused, internally debating the logic of this. It had been impulsive of him, which was very un-Vulcan of him. Even so, he was already committed. "James Kirk."

The simple statement wiped the smile off of Uhura's face. Clearly, Spock had not forgotten their disturbing conversation about Kirk the day before. She had been hoping that on second thoughts, Spock would restore his friendship with Jim.

Guardedly, she said, "Go on."

"Are you aware that the identity of Kirk's ship has been classified?"

Uhura was surprised. "Who classified that? Why? What's the point?"

"Fleet Admiral William Toddman. As for why, I do not have sufficient information."

Now Uhura was worried. Why would someone so highly placed as the Fleet Admiral classify the means by which Kirk came back home? "Do the others know this?"

"As far as I am aware, I'm the first to discover this. Captain Uhura, I want to know why it has been classified and exactly what has been classified."

In other words, Spock wanted her to use her position within Starfleet Intelligence to find out. Uhura bit her lower lip. She was still new to the position although much has already been put at her disposal. "I could find out, Spock. But we have to be careful. It could be grounds for a court-martial. We have enough of that lately."

"Indeed. It could also mean murder."

"Murder?" Uhura was aghast that Spock would think that could happen.

"Yes. My father and his colleagues have mentioned the…'accidental' deaths of several Starfleet officers just before Sarek died on the Republic during an 'accidental' warp core breach. Captain Finnegan named some of these officers: Xon, Harry Morrow, James Styles and Shakti Jataras. I do not believe they are accidental deaths."

She nodded, trusting Spock's powers of reason. "Okay. I will make sure that all records of our investigation are erased before anyone else catches it."

"Logical. It would be most inconvenient if we were caught by individuals inimical to our cause. That will be all, Captain."

Uhura was tempted to bite her lips, but she merely nodded and left Spock's quarters. She had begun working at Starfleet Intelligence and already, she had a dangerous mission to do, albeit unsanctioned by Intelligence.

**Starfleet Headquarters**

**San Francisco, Earth**

Admiral Kirk was looking through the windows of the main lounge at Starfleet Headquarters. Beyond the windows, the lights of San Francisco spread out like an inverted starry night sky. The faint hum of antigrav cars and transports was carried by the gentle night breeze. Like every other city on Earth, San Francisco was a city at peace. In the past, Kirk had grown impatient with the perfection of this world: its boringly scheduled weather; its world government that was annoyingly free of conflict; its pervasive lack of excitement and challenge.

All of it endangered by the unfriendly galaxy.

Perhaps paradise was not as bad as he thought. At least in moderation.

The sound of footsteps alerted Kirk. He had thought that no one would be in the lounge at this hour. He turned to the source of the sound. Doctor McCoy and Admiral Spock entered through one of the large doorways.

"Admiral," said Spock in greeting.

"Admiral," returned Kirk.

McCoy frowned and harrumphed. He hoped that Kirk and Spock would restore their relationship despite the damned Vulcan's misgivings. "Do I detect a chill in the environmental system?"

"Spock hasn't exactly welcomed me with open arms," said Kirk petulantly.

"Don't tell me. Tell him," retorted McCoy. "You have been friends for…I can't count that high." He pointed harshly at Spock. "You died at the Genesis Planet and came back. Right from the start, you were friends again with Jim. Okay, not right from the beginning but when you found your blasted personality again, you were." The doctor now pointed harshly at Kirk. "This man died. Or so we think. Or as good as died. I don't know! He has come back. Don't you think it's time you repaid him what he has done for you?!"

Kirk and Spock stared at each other silently and uncomfortably.

"Well? Get going to it! Talk, kiss, shake hands, whatever it is you do to make up!" McCoy turned to walk away, throwing up his hands. "I'm a doctor, not a counselor!"

Spock said archly, "You are being facetious, Doctor. You have often kept watch on our psychological health, and in so doing, indeed acted the role of counselor on the Enterprise."

"Look who's being facetious! Now stop insulting me and get to it!"

As McCoy walked off to another part of the lounge, Spock and Kirk were now effectively alone.

"All right, Spock. What's going on?"

The picture of Vulcan innocence, Spock turned to Kirk. "I am merely adjusting to the shock of seeing you alive after we have accepted the fact of your death. Humans do not practice similar beliefs as Vulcans do regarding the katra, so seeing a human 'resurrected' is highly unusual. As far as I am aware, human history records only the mythologies of Osiris, Dionysus, Tammuz, Adonis, Mithras, Ishtar, Persephone and other gods, the Judeo-Christian stories of Elijah and Elisha each raising a boy from the dead, and, of course, the feats of Jesus. These stories come from Earth's distant past and, as such, are of doubtful authenticity. Furthermore, you must understand that the death of my father is still recent."

Kirk looked at Spock with skepticism. He had learned long ago that the longer one of Spock's answers was, the more likely it was that he was hiding the truth. Spock was evading his question.

"I don't understand, Spock. My…'death' doesn't matter. Vulcans are logical. You shouldn't be distracted by such…esotericism."

"Esotericism cannot be substantiated," Spock said. "I will concede that Vulcans sometimes seem to have esoteric practices, but—"

"Spock!"

Spock widened his eyes at Kirk's outburst.

"Forget about esotericism. Forget about death and resurrection. What is wrong with you? I say there's something you're not telling me."

Spock looked away from Kirk.

Kirk was interested in Spock's silence. Despite the popular belief to the contrary, Vulcans could lie. Spock had certainly proven that over the years. He wouldn't do it for his own benefit, but he didn't hesitate in misleading enemies or in serving a greater good. One thing that Kirk knew was that Spock would never lie to him. Spock's silence meant that he was restraining himself from revealing a truth or from lying outright.

The silence stretched on. Finally, Kirk nodded. "Good night, Admiral. Thanks for the talk." He started for the main exit.

Spock didn't let him take more than three steps. "Jim, wait."

Kirk stopped, but didn't turn back. It was the first time since he came back that Spock called him 'Jim.'

"Do you remember Surak?"

Kirk slowly turned back to Spock. "What?"

Spock looked troubled. "Do you remember Surak?"

Confused with the apparent sidetracking of the conversation, Kirk answered, "Yes. I remember Surak on Excalbia. You were there. What about him?"

Spock appeared to shudder as he closed his eyes. He shuddered!

Spock was at this moment remembering Lady Morella's prophecies. He recalled them in full: _"You must reunite your people or the stars will be rent in blood and fire. You must beware the man who remembers Surak's face. If you would have your friend live, he must die."_

Was James Kirk the man and the friend? Spock didn't want to have Kirk die, whatever his misgivings about him. Perhaps Morella meant someone else. The Vulcan did have more than one friend in both universes. He had hoped that his traumas in the alternate universe helped Kirk to forget about Surak. It was illogical, not to mention irrational of him to hope so, he knew.

"Well, Spock, tell me exactly what's bothering you."

Spock took a breath before deciding to take a risk. He remembered how his father tried to find out his allegiances by touching his shoulder. He didn't know how that was done, but it was likely it would be readily apparent if Kirk wasn't who he appears to be.

He reached out and touched both of Kirk's upper arms.

He felt nothing. Nothing except Kirk and his uniform under his hands. The human was giving Spock an odd look.

Spock felt relieved. Perhaps the sense-bond, which had returned upon the completion of the fal-tor-pan ritual on Mount Seleya, didn't apply to human resurrections. It could be restored later. "My father, Ambassador Sarek, informed me of odd incidents within the Federation. Officers like Harry Morrow and the Fleet Admiral's aide Shakti Jataras have died in circumstances that have been classified as accidents. Some of the orders coming from Starfleet Command appear to be preparing key sectors of Federation space for a hostile takeover. After informing me all this, Sarek died on the Republic with all hands aboard. Command has classified that as an accident as well. I do not accept that classification."

Kirk looked down at the lounge floor. There was no anger in his heart, no adrenaline call to action. Only disappointment. Sharp and overwhelming.

"Spock, I want to ask. Why didn't you tell me all that at the beginning? But I know the answer."

Spock looked at him silently, his thoughts and feelings hidden by Vulcan training.

"You think I might be involved," Kirk said, each word a knife to stab the air between the two friends. "Involved with the deaths, the reorganization of Starfleet and the Federation, all of it. The truth you were trying so hard to hide is…you don't trust me."

Spock chose his words carefully as if this was as difficult for him as it was for Kirk. "The last time we saw you was on the Enterprise at the Borg encounter in the Earth Alliance. As far as we knew, you were…under restraints at Mars and then taken by the Shadows. We knew that no one goes to Z'ha'dum and comes back unchanged. That is evident in your unusual acceptance of the post as Admiral and Chief of Starfleet Operations. I felt that you were…compromised."

Now Kirk showed anger on his face. "Spare me the speeches, Admiral. The lies, the half-truths, the evasions. The plain and simple truth of it is you don't trust me. After all I've done for you…to be treated like this is…is unacceptable."

Contritely, Spock said, "Admiral, when the fal-tor-pan ritual was completed at Mount Seleya, I…had felt an immediate connection to you. It was our sense-bond returning. This time, I do not feel it."

Kirk felt the bitter shock of betrayal. "Don't you dare try to excuse yourself, Admiral."

Uhura skidded to a halt as she entered the lounge. She had immediately felt the tension in the air. Taking advantage of the distraction, Kirk turned away from Spock.

"What is it, Uhura?" asked Kirk sharply.

McCoy was immediately at her side. "Don't take this out on her, Jim. I see that putting you two together was a mistake." He turned comfortingly to Uhura. "What is it, my dear?"

"I…came looking for Spock." She looked at the Vulcan admiral nervously.

"I am here. Speak." Spock was still recovering.

She glanced uneasily at McCoy and Kirk. Understanding her meaning, Spock said, "You may speak in front of them. What you have to say has relevance to the discussion we were having just as you came in."

"Well…. I tracked down the officers who manned the Spacedock's Control Tower when Admiral Kirk came home."

Kirk looked at her with interested curiosity. Uhura continued.

"James Kirk came in a Federation shuttle called the Plato. The shuttle came from a starship labeled NCC-1371. The USS Republic."

Vast silence reigned in the lounge as McCoy turned with wide eyes at both Kirk and Spock.

Spock's face darkened and he held a trembling finger toward Kirk. It shook with an outrage so strong that it could not be fully restrained by Vulcan training. "You accused me of lies and half-truths. You dared to accuse me. You dared to distance yourself from the deaths in Starfleet. You killed my father! You murdered Sarek!"

"Spock…," said Kirk quietly. "I…."

"Admiral," growled Spock, still trembling with rage. "Leave me. Leave me before I do something that we will regret."

Kirk looked to McCoy and Uhura for help. They were looking at him with shock and pity. There would be no help there. He nodded curtly at them and walked stiffly out of the lounge.

Doctor McCoy and Captain Uhura watched fearfully as Spock labored to bring himself back under control. Suddenly, he grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it at a wall bearing the logos of Starfleet and the Federation. The vase shattered.

Spock immediately calmed himself as he looked at the remains of the vase. "Interesting. That was oddly satisfying."

McCoy and Uhura wanted to reach out to Spock, but they were afraid that anything they do would break the Vulcan's self-control once more.

The Vulcan admiral drew himself up straight and faced them. "I no longer have any desire to remain here. Goodbye, my friends." With that, he left.

"What…," McCoy breathed, "the hell happened here?"

Uhura could only agree with the sentiment behind the question.

**Palais de la Concorde**

**Paris, European Alliance, Earth**

Caithlin Dar went up to the fifteenth floor of the Palais in a turbolift. She was glad to replace the fool Nanclus. He had humiliated the Star Empire by getting caught in the Khitomer Conspiracy. In spite of the rising tension between the Federation and the Star Empire, she hoped to use her new position to get a seat in the Imperial Senate.

The turbolift stopped its ascent and opened its doors. Gathering up her shimmery silver robes, Caithlin went down a corridor until she reached the Federation Vice-President's office in the Red Room.

Technically, she was supposed to see President Ra'ghoratreii first. But she couldn't wait to see St. John Talbot. She had shared an adventure with him along with the Klingon ambassador, General Korrd at Nimbus III and Vorta Vor. Thanks to Sybok, he had sobered up and gone from his position of disgrace straight into the Palais itself. That was to be commended. Besides, it nicely served the purpose of the tensions by snubbing the President.

"Hello, St. John."

The Vice-President stood up behind his desk, looking delighted. "Why, hello! Our new Romulan ambassador! Welcome to Earth, Miss Dar. If General Korrd was here, we'd have a full reunion! I must say I'm glad to have you for ambassador instead of that bore, Nanclus."

Caithlin smirked at Talbot's British humor.

"Nanclus was in it for himself, St. John."

"Oh of course, Miss Dar. Of course. The one good thing in Nanclus' involvement in the Conspiracy is you. We get to have a good ambassador from Romulus for a change."

Caithlin gave a short chuckle. She wasn't sure whether the Vice-President was flirting her or insulting her government. She decided that he was just being friendly with an old friend.

The door chimed.

Talbot frowned. "Oh, pardon me, Miss Dar. I wasn't expecting anybody at this time." He pressed a button in the desk to open the doors.

It was Spock dressed in black Vulcan robes with silver script running down a side.

"Mr. Talbot. Ambassador Dar."

"Spock?" Talbot was puzzled. "Your appointment isn't till tomorrow." He glanced at the Romulan ambassador. "I am in a meeting, as you can see."

"Indeed. I apologize, but this cannot wait." He turned to Caithlin, executing a Romulan bow. "Ambassador, I wish to go to Romulus."

Caithlin and Talbot were surprised, to say the least. The Englishman sputtered until he found his voice. "Admiral, are you saying you want to defect?"

"I am not defecting as this is off the record. Even unofficially, I am not defecting. I am taking an unofficial mission to Romulus."

"Whatever for, Admiral?!"

"The present tension with the Romulan Empire can only escalate into a war if something is not done in the cause of peace. I wish to take that cause upon myself."

Talbot glanced at the silent Caithlin. "Are you mad? Who would listen to you? You're an Admiral in Starfleet!"

"First of all, Mr. Talbot…," Spock said as he put a hand into the folds of his robes. He took out his Starfleet badge and rank insignia. Setting them on the Vice-President's desk, he said, "I am aware that as Vice-President of the United Federation of Planets, you do not have a place within the Starfleet chain of command. Nevertheless, I am resigning my commission."

Talbot gaped at the badge and insignia on his desk as if they were a coiled poisonous snake.

"Second of all, Ambassador Caithlin Dar, as I understand your culture, you owe me a debt of honor due to the events that transpired at Sha-Ka-Ree."

Caithlin Dar had recovered from the shock. "Certainly. Thank you for this opportunity to repay it to you."

Spock nodded formally. Vorta Vor was the Romulan name for the planet that Sybok and Spock called Sha-Ka-Ree, the humans called Eden and the Klingons called Qui'Tu.

Spock bowed to Caithlin again. It was time for him to realize part of Lady Morella's prophecies before it was forced upon him.

**Starfleet Headquarters**

"What is it?" Kirk hadn't intended to be curt. It had been four weeks since his falling out with Spock and he was still in a bad mood.

Fleet Admiral Toddman winced at Kirk's tone. He had heard about the falling out. Sometimes the grapevine relayed more information in Starfleet than Starfleet Intelligence. At least it made Admiral Kirk throw himself into the work.

"I apologize for disturbing you, Admiral. There's something you need to know."

"Yes?"

The Fleet Admiral stepped deeper into Kirk's office. "Three weeks ago, one of our officers disappeared. He left no word of his destination." Toddman moved toward Kirk's desk and activated his computer. "Two days ago, Starfleet Intelligence reports placed him on Romulus. I assure you it's an unauthorized visit."

"A defection?" Kirk frowned. It was just what they needed, with the tensions with the Romulan Empire.

"If it is, the damage to Federation security would be incalculable." Toddman turned to Kirk's computer and tapped a few instructions and then gestured for Kirk to look.

A fuzzy, out-of-focus picture, with margins showing, appeared on the screen. Obviously, the picture was taken on a very long lens. There were several blurred figures, none of them identifiable.

"Taken on Romulus by long-range scanner. Computer, enhance image in section four-delta."

The image came into sharper relief—the part with the center person particularly—and as it focused, there was the unmistakable image of Spock, dressed in Romulan clothing.

Kirk was shocked.

**Hall of State**

**Ra'tleihfi, Romulus**

The sun shone on the capitol city of Romulus. The city appeared bright and clean with metal, chrome and glass on high rises of various dynamic shapes. In the middle where the city stood on the shore of the Apnex Sea, the circular Imperial Forum rose above a river. In the center of it was the monumental and round Hall of State containing the Imperial Senate Chamber and the Praetor's offices.

The Praetor's office has a stateliness, suggesting great power. It had very clean lines and was orderly and spacious with understated luxury as befitting the chief executive of a great empire. A chime sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Senator Pardek came in with Spock. Praetor Ael Saren Charvanek rose from her chair and came forward to greet her guests.

"Praetor," said Pardek in greeting.

"Yes. Pardek. Come in." Ael didn't dare let the senator know that she recognized Spock.

Pardek introduced the Vulcan. "Spock of Vulcan."

"Praetor."

Ael was glad that Spock was smart and perceptive enough to play along. "Please. I've never liked titles since…a certain incident with a Federation starship. I am Ael Saren Charvanek. How is it done…?" She held up a hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. Spock returned it.

"I am honored."

"Good."

Ael and Spock looked at each other for a while until Pardek nervously said, "Permit me to withdraw."

"Will we see you at the state dinner tomorrow?"

Pardek bowed. "Yes." Smiling, he withdrew from the Praetor's office.

Ael looked at Spock and smiled conspiratorially. "So, Spock in the heart of the enemy."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "The Romulans are not an enemy of the Federation."

She scoffed. "The days of friendship between the Federation and Romulus ended when Nanclus got caught in the Khitomer Conspiracy. Many of the senators and much of the military are scared of your alliance with the Klingons."

"It is my hope that my presence on Romulus will help allay their fears."

Ael laughed as she sat. "Still the idealistic Vulcan! Let me tell you something, Spock. We're going to start something here, you and I, that will redraw the face of the quadrant." She leaned forward on her desk toward the seated Spock. "We're already changing politics in the quadrant."

A raised eyebrow: "How so?"

Ael smiled ferally. She pressed an instruction in her desk computer and turned around to face a viewscreen hung above a fireplace. It activated and showed a human woman in a business suit seated at a desk in the main Federation News Service broadcasting center.

"…_the impeachment of Vice-President Talbot in the Federation Council reached a fever pitch when evidence of a relationship between Mr. Talbot and Romulan Ambassador Caithlin Dar was revealed in the Council. It was also revealed that Mr. Talbot helped facilitate Admiral Spock's defection to the Romulan Star Empire. In light of the new evidence, Councilor Gar of Tellar accused the Vice-President of inappropriate Romulan sympathies."_ The newswoman paused as she held a hand to an earpiece. _"We're getting a development in the impeachment process. President Ra'ghoratreii has called for a press conference at the Palais. We go now to the Palais de la Concorde."_

The image changed to that of the Efrosian president of the Federation standing at a podium in front of the Federation Great Seal. Spock could only watch with growing surprise.

"_This scandal is a sad event for us all. We have been given a mandate by the peoples of the Federation to lead the Council through times both good and bad. The scandal indicates a failure to carry out that mandate. The continuation of this shameful chapter in Federation history would be a betrayal of the spirit of the Federation Charter. We need concord among the citizens of the Federation."_ Ra'ghor took his spectacles off as he paused in his speech. _"That is why, as of twenty minutes ago, I have accepted the resignation of St. John Talbot from the office of Vice-President of the United Federation of Planets."_

A murmur sounded off-screen as reporters and spectator reacted to this announcement.

"_As per the Federation Charter, I will submit the nomination of Fleet Admiral William Toddman to the Federation Council as a replacement for St. John Talbot. To respect the spirit of the Federation Charter, Admiral Toddman will resign his commission in the Federation Starfleet. Thank you for your support, your patience and your understanding. That is all."_

The viewscreen deactivated just as Ra'ghor turned to leave the press conference room. Spock was reeling from the revelations.

"You will agree, Spock, that we now need each other just as our two worlds need each other in reunion."

Grimly, Spock could only agree.

**Starfleet Headquarters**

**San Francisco, North America, Earth**

James Kirk looked up when the door to his office opened.

"Ah, Captain Finnegan. Thanks for coming."

The blond man beamed at Admiral Kirk. "How's everything, Jim?"

Kirk smiled wearily though there was no real humor in the smile. "Fine, fine."

"It's funny. I was an upperclassman at Starfleet Academy when you were a plebe. Now here you are, an Admiral and me, a mere ship captain."

Kirk now gave a real smile at the fond memory of the torment that Bruce Finnegan inflicted on him in the Academy. "I want you to do one thing for me."

"Anything for my Jimmy boy. The Farragut is at your service."

"Take my nephew Peter Kirk to Starbase 10."

"Ah, pulling strings for the family, huh, Jim?"

"You could say that, Bruce. I don't trust many people these days. I can't. Peter is family, so he's the best person to watch the rift and the Romulan border for me."

Finnegan executed a smart old style military salute. "Alright, yes, sir, Admiral, sir."

"Thanks, Captain." Kirk was sincere.

"Say, Jim, now that ol' Bill is gonna be Vice-President, who's gonna be C-in-C?"

Kirk shrugged. "I don't know. That's up to the Federation Council."

"Ok, Jim, I better get to the taxi service for your boy."

Once Finnegan was gone, Kirk returned to his work. But he paused for a long time to think. Whoever would be Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet would need to deal with the crises facing the Federation in tandem with the Palais.

He hoped that it would be easier from now on.


	32. Fire in the Blood part 1

_Captain's log, stardate 8230. Starship Excelsior on course to the Keid System, also known as 40 Eridani, and in the home universe, the Vulcan System. It has been over a month since the secession of Babylon 5 and several colonies from the Earth Alliance. It's also two weeks since the bridge officers of the late Enterprise left for home. I'm confident that the task force that Starfleet Command has allowed to stay will protect Babylon 5. Having heard almost nothing from the civilian research vessel Hakudo Maru, I've decided to take the initiative and investigate._

Captain Hikaru Sulu kept his eyes trained on the three bright dots in the starry field on the main viewscreen. One was orange-red, one was white and the third was dim red. They were the stars of the Keid System. In the home universe, Keid A would be Vulcan's sun while Keid B and C would be bright stars in the Vulcan sky, shining even in the day time.

"Ms. Rand, are we in range?"

"Yes, Captain."

"All right, contact the Hakudo Maru."

"Yes, sir."

Janice Rand worked on her controls, fine-tuning the subspace frequencies. There was a good side to this universe's lack of subspace technology: not much extraneous chatter to filter out. Although that was slowly changing: Rand could hear subspace mumblings from the directions of Babylon 5, Centauri space and beyond, not to mention the InterStellar Alliance.

There!

"Sir, the Hakudo Maru is answering."

Sulu looked up at Chekov with relief. The Excelsior's new executive officer was standing beside the command chair. "Onscreen."

The female Vulcan leader of the expedition came on the main viewscreen.

"Director T'Sara."

She gave a short nod of greeting. _"Captain Sulu."_

"Are you all right? We haven't heard from you."

"_I apologize. We were distracted by tasks at hand."_

"You mean Dr. Howard and the shuttle Hak'Mar?"

"_Not anymore. We followed the shuttle's trail and found debris corresponding to the mass of the Hak'Mar. We concluded that it was destroyed and Dr. Howard was killed. We then elected to investigate this universe's counterpart of Vulcan at Keid II."_

"I see." Sulu was relieved. The civilians were all right, then. Still, they should have reported to Babylon 5. Oh well, that's Vulcans for you. Even so, they could probably protect themselves with their ship. The Hakudo Maru was once a Vulcan cruiser named the Shi'Mar. As far as Sulu knew, Vulcan ships from the Romulan War era could match most warships in this universe, not counting the First Ones and possibly the Minbari. But he didn't want to have that tested. "How is it?"

"_The planet's infrastructure indicates heavy orbital assault approximately a thousand years ago. The debris in orbit corresponds to Shadow, Vorlon and Minbari technology. There are remains of early non-warp Vulcan ships as well. Other vessels in the debris field do not correspond to anything we have on file. Some of us theorize that some of them were early forms of Yolu and Markab vessels. We are analyzing them. However, we are focusing our efforts on the planet surface. We have begun investigations at the cities of ShiKahr, Kir, Raal, Gol, T'Paal and Vulcana Regar."_

Sulu was surprised. Six cities investigated by a single research vessel. "Isn't that…a lot to do?"

"_Indeed. However, we are initiating dig trenches only at ShiKahr and Gol at the present time."_

"What about the…natives?"

T'Sara allowed a hint of sorrow to come through her façade. _"They are primitive and few in number. The various groups avoid all contact with each other and us. For the most part, they also avoid coming up to the surface, preferring to remain in caves and small underground cities. We once investigated the T'Karath Sanctuary only to find it occupied by hostiles. It would seem that the ancient orbital assault reduced the Keidians to behaviors of survival rather than cooperation and self-improvement. But we are continuing efforts to contact them…most cautiously."_

Sulu caught the new name given to the natives of this planet. It was a measure of T'Sara's attempted emotional detachment for her to call her people's counterpart 'Keidians.' "Do you need assist—"

A beep sounded at the communications station. Janice Rand listened and turned to Sulu with surprise. "Sir, we're receiving a subspace distress signal. It's Starfleet."

T'Sara heard what Rand said. _"It would appear that you will be too busy to render assistance to us. I will send messages to Starfleet Command if I require assistance."_ With that, she cut the connection.

Sulu turned his chair around to Rand. "Talk to me. Is it Babylon 5?"

"No, sir. The source has identified itself as the USS Majestic. It's near the Zwiest System."

Sulu didn't recognize the system's name so he got up to the science station, followed by Chekov. "Mr. Tuvok, show us the map."

The Vulcan ensign brought up a map of local systems on a monitor at his station. An eyebrow rose on Tuvok's forehead. Sulu looked up at Chekov. They shared Tuvok's sentiments.

"What the hell? What's a Federation starship's doing so far away? Zwiest is between Centauri and Vorlon space. Ms. Rand, do you have the ship's coordinates?"

"Yes, sir. Transferring coordinates to navigations and sciences."

A tiny Starfleet delta appeared on the map, blinking on and off near the star labeled Zwiest and another unlabeled star.

"My God! It's right at the edge of the Vorlon Empire! What the hell is Starfleet thinking??" Captain Sulu quickly went to his command chair and activated the ship's intercom system. "Engineering, can we open a jumppoint now?"

The voice of Chief Engineer Devon Gabler came over the speakers. _"Yes, sir. It'll require a lot of power, though."_

"Do it." Normal warp would be too slow. Hyperwarp would be their best bet of getting to that ship before it attracted the attention of the Vorlons. So far, they hadn't shown any overt action toward any Starfleet ship. Sulu wasn't about to let the ship's presence tip the Vorlons' hand against the Federation.

From the Excelsior's deflector dish, a tachyon and geodesic pulse was sent into subspace. The power required to open the jumppoint caused energy drains all over the starship. The light dimmed on the bridge for a while. Eventually, the pulses successfully pierced the fabric of space and the lights on the ship shone back to full power. There was, however, no visible sign of a hyperspace vortex. Instead, it appeared as if a faint cloud of reddish gas spilled out into normal space.

"Take us in."

The Excelsior slid into the cloud, vanishing in a burst of light. The red cloud appeared to be sucked back into hyperspace, leaving no sign of the starship's transfer into that dimension.

Once in hyperspace, Sulu said, "Do we have the signal from the beacon at Zwiest?"

"Yes, sir," said Angelo Tiffe.

"Take us there. Hyperwarp 1.8."

The starship stretched and vanished into the murky distance of hyperspace.

**Zwiest System**

The local jumpgate activated. Energy rushed down the three struts, building up power. Then a blue vortex bloomed open. Out of it came the Excelsior. Immediately, it aimed itself at a specific neighboring star and warped.

"The ship's coming into sensor range," reported the security chief Leonard James Akaar.

Sulu gestured at Janice Rand.

"Majestic, this is Excelsior," said Janice on cue. "This is Excelsior calling. Do you receive? …I say again, this is Excelsior calling Majestic. Come in, please. Please respond. Please—" The female communications officer turned to Sulu. "It's no use. No response from Majestic."

Captain Sulu grumbled his annoyance. The distress signal from the ship was the vaguest he'd ever encountered. It was only giving off the Code 7-10, the quarantine code. That meant that no Starfleet or Federation-registered starship is to approach a system or vessel which is broadcasting Code 7-10. "They want help, but they won't give details. You're right, Commander Chekov. This has to be a high security operation."

"_Extremely_ high security," Chekov noted, rehashing a conversation that they had during the voyage in hyperspace. "Way out here, far from any of the main jump routes, right at the edge of Vorlon space. Whatever it is they're doing, they want it secret. Perhaps they just don't want anyone eavesdropping."

On the main viewscreen, a red giant star was already visible, glowing feebly. Flares constantly licked out of the aging star's surface, some arcing back down. Knots of sunspots were scattered all over it, tarnishing the sun's surface like age spots.

When the Excelsior came out of warp, the red star was a wall of flame that filled half the visible universe. It occupied a volume equal to the orbit of Jupiter.

"Where's the Majestic?" wondered Chekov aloud.

Obligingly, Ensign Tuvok pinpointed the beleaguered ship's location and magnified it on the main viewscreen. Almost within reach of the arcing flares of the ancient star, a Miranda-class starship appeared to be adrift.

"Wow…," breathed an intimidated Chekov. "They shouldn't have parked so close to the star."

"That may be the point," said Akaar, coming up beside Chekov and Sulu. "They wanted to make interception difficult. The star's gravity field would make any vessel, friend or foe, slow down on approach. It would force any ship in hyperspace to jump out far away from the star and approach in normal space. That gives them time to detect, scan and evade."

Sulu nodded. "Tactically, that is the right decision. In practice, it's going to kill them. This is the wrong place to hide." He pointed at the map still displayed at Tuvok's station. "We're right at the border of the Vorlon Empire. We might even be in Vorlon space. The star charts aren't clear about the borders. Good thing the star didn't have any planet or satellite. There's no hyperspace beacon for this star. However, we don't know what the Vorlons might use to guard their borders so jealously." He glanced nervously at the main viewscreen. "Who knows? They might have detected us and are preparing a response."

"How do we know they haven't already responded?" retorted Akaar.

Captain Sulu stared at his security chief uncomfortably. That was a possible explanation for the lack of communication from the Majestic. He hadn't thought of that. He turned to Janice. "Lieutenant? Is there anything else yet?"

The middle-aged blonde shook her head. "Sorry, Captain. There's still nothing from the Majestic."

When the Excelsior came into transporter range of the Miranda-class starship, Captain Sulu said, "Commander, gather the team for transport. And Chekov?"

"Sir?"

"Be careful."

"Yes, sir."

o0o

Pavel Chekov was in the main transporter room when the rest of his landing party arrived. The female Denobulan engineer Terim Azleya, the medical technician Peter Tiefen and the security officer Colton Ford. Seeing that everyone were ready, the commander told the transporter operator to beam them over to the Majestic's bridge.

"Yes, sir. Energizing."

The transporter effect obscured the view of the Excelsior's transporter room and then faded away. They were now on the Majestic.

Immediately, they activated their flashlights and looked around at the dim bridge. Only the emergency lighting shone.

"Seems empty, sir," commented Azleya. She added in a hushed voice, "And quiet."

The Majestic was indeed quiet. There were none of the familiar background noises of a starship. The air circulators were off. The coolant pipes were silent. There weren't even any beep from the various monitors and computers. Starships weren't silent, no matter how well designed. Liquid, air and plasma flowing through pipes. Everything whistled, vibrated and hummed. The Majestic…didn't.

"Over here!" shouted Colton.

The party rushed to where the security officer was kneeling. It was a body, sprawled half out of his seat as if he fell trying to get up. He appeared to be severely dehydrated to the point where he was mummified. A shockingly pale-white body dressed in a ripped and torn uniform. They cringed at the sight. The dead man must have wanted to scream, but couldn't have managed more than a gurgle or a hiss. The palate, all its teeth intact, made a pale gothic arch over the ruins of the missing jaw, a grotesque half-cathedral. The tongue was gone. His skin was stretched and sunken, mostly pale and almost white. The eyes bulged and the hands clenched. In spite of the damage, a look of terror and agony was evident on the face. The man's jaw was clenched in one of his fists. His was evidently not an easy death.

"Look," said Ford, waving his rifle at the body.

Everywhere on it, there were tiny lines in the body—they looked at first like wrinkles, but they weren't. They were slits in the skin, as if it had been stretched to the point of shredding. The body looked something horribly alien while frighteningly human at the same time.

Peter scanned it with a medical tricorder. His voice shook. "There's no blood. No fluid. Nothing!"

Chekov could see that. The body was too pale. And there was no pool of blood around it or anything resembling blood in the gaping wound. There was no smell. That meant there had been no predation. All the fluids were gone.

"Disease?" said Azleya.

Peter shook his head. "I know of no disease that could deliver this sort of full-body punch."

"What about a chemical agent?" suggested Colton.

"You mean like a biogenic weapon?" Peter shook his head. "The tricorder isn't picking up any foreign substance in the body." He looked away from the body. He was trying to control his trembling reaction. "I've seen many battle wounds, illnesses and accidents. Nothing comes close to this."

Morbidly curious, he reached out to touch the mummified body. It came apart. Fragmenting, breaking into dusty pieces. Gasping with horror and surprise, Peter jerked his hand back just as the corpse collapsed. It crumbled to the deck, shattering into dust.

"Galaxy!" said a shocked Azleya. "What is it? What happened here?"

Colton tenderly laid a hand on the trembling medtech's shoulder. "It's okay, Pete. There's plenty we don't know and we will find out."

Peter appeared to draw comfort from the hand. He stood up and nodded. "Yes, Colt."

Colton smiled softly at the familiar inside joke. It meant Peter was recovering from the shock.

"All right," said Chekov, recovering professionally. "Let's spread out."

o0o

The corridors were quiet, but were littered with discarded items. The walls were covered in phaser burn marks. Chekov nervously walked down one of the corridors, sweeping the area with his flashlight and phaser. So far he hadn't found anyone. He jumped when a beep sounded from his communicator.

Chiding himself, he flipped the communicator open. "Commander Chekov here."

"_Commander, this is Lieutenant Azleya."_ The Russian could hear a tremor in the Denobulan woman's voice._ "I'm in Engineering. Sir…everybody's dead here."_

"Can you see how…they died?"

"_They all display the same symptoms as the body we found at the bridge. Slits in the body and absolutely no blood."_

Chekov absorbed the information in silence. What the hell happened here? Could it be the Vorlons? He shivered as he imagined an encounter-suited Vorlon suddenly appearing around a corner, attacking Chekov and sucking the life out of him like a vampire.

"Uh…. Can you access the internal sensors?"

"_No, sir. A phaser blast destroyed the console for them."_

"All right. Carry on, Lieutenant."

"_Yes, sir."_

o0o

Colton Ford warily investigated the quarters. He held a phaser rifle at the ready with a flashlight. He was strung taut. So far, the quarters were empty and showed signs of sudden abandonment: food still waiting on tables, entertainment vidshows still running, and even a shower still running. Many showed signs of combat: phaser scorch marks, broken glass, overturned furniture. If the ship was being invaded, why wasn't there any sign of alien weapons? Surely even the Vorlons needed weapons to fight?

He approached another door leading into crew quarters. It may be exactly the same as the other quarters, but he remained wary. He opened the door.

Colton drew a sharp breath.

Bodies were in there. Many mummified bodies in various states of terror, fright and struggle. A few were hugging for comfort or protection. All were the same as the body in the bridge. Shockingly pale with slits everywhere on the body. Even the one Andorian he could see was just as pale as the dead humans. The only body that wasn't pale was a Tellarite but then again, the alien's fur could be hiding the paleness. Judging by the cloudy unfocused eyes, the Tellarite was obviously as dead as everyone else.

Strange. He had been in combat before. A room full of dead bodies should be stinking to high heaven. Here, there was no smell at all. Of course. There wasn't any fluid left to give off a smell. This was way beyond his experience.

Shivering, Colton stepped back out of the quarters and allowed the door to slide shut.

A beep trilled out of his communicator, making him jump. It was Commander Chekov. _"Everybody, report to the transporter room. There's something there!"_

Jolted by the news, Colton ran down the corridor.

Chekov was studying the transporter controls when the others arrived.

He looked up at the arrivals. "The transporters have been reconfigured in a strange manner. Lieutenant Azleya, can you tell me what's wrong with the transporters?"

The engineer came up to the transporter control console beside Chekov. "I see it. There's someone in the pattern buffers. You're right. It's strange. Power is being drawn from the auxiliary systems while the rematerialization subroutines have been disabled—on purpose. The phase inducers are connected to the emitter array and the pattern buffers are locked in a diagnostic cycle. Whoever did this is an engineering genius!"

"Can anyone survive in the transporter buffer for a long time?" wondered Blake aloud.

Azleya shrugged. "There's one way to find out." She restored the rematerialization subroutines and activated the transporters. "Energizing."

A pillar of shimmering light appeared on a transporter pad and faded to reveal a man wearing a torn white lab coat. The human looked around in surprise, gasping and choking. His face was blotchy and deformed. The surprise turned into terror.

"Oh God! No!"

The human looked around frantically. He flew down from the transporter pad, stumbling. He careened off the glass shield protecting the transporter control station, bumped into a wall and thumped heavily to the deck below.

The landing party took startled steps backward.

He implored, "Kill me! Somebody kill me! Hurry!" His eyes still shifted in terror in a face whose skin was now twitching as if there were things moving around just beneath it.

The Excelsior crewmembers looked at each other in their own surprise. They didn't expect a person who tried to preserve himself in the transporters to beg them to kill him.

Colton pointed his phaser rifle away at the ceiling when the man's eyes sought him beseechingly. Chekov raised his hands placatingly. "You're safe now. It's all right."

"No! It's not all right! I'm dead! You're too late! Everyone's dead! You're all dead! DEAD!"

Peter Tiefen saw that the man's pulse rate was frighteningly high in his medical tricorder's reading. Sidling up to the man on the deck, he touched a hypospray to his neck and a soft hiss sounded.

"Here," he said gently to the transporter refugee. "This will ease the pain."

That should have calmed the man. Instead, he started twitching and shuddering even more frantically. "Oh no! It's happening! Oh, please, no—! Kill me! Oh God, please kill me!"

He jerked suddenly across the deck as if something was dragging him from the inside. He pulled himself up, almost standing again, pushed himself off the wall. It looked as if he would run off, but before he could do so, he clutched his belly and screamed. A dark red stain began spreading across the front of his uniform, darker than the wine-red of the Starfleet tunic.

"Kill me! Quickly! God damn you!"

Peter took a step backward to keep out of his way. Azleya stumbled backward to get out of the medtech's way.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the unnamed man threw himself at Azleya and wrenched her phaser out of her surprised hand. Before they could stop him, he turned the phaser on himself and fired.

The human dropped to the deck.

Peter hurriedly kneeled beside the dying man. As he rifled through his medkit, he muttered to himself angrily. Azleya kneeled beside him, looked into the man's dimming eyes and asked quietly, "Why?"

Peace and relief coming in waves over his face, he breathed his last.

As the body slumped, the wet stain in his uniform continued to spread. Soon, something appeared to be slithering under the clothes. Peter nervously undid the dead man's shirt. What appeared to be tiny flame-colored creatures that looked to be worms the size of maggots were making their way out of the body and steam were coming off of the seeping blood and the creatures, indicating great heat.

Puzzled and sickened, Peter scanned them with his tricorder. At a confirming beep, his jaw fell. He stood up and shouted, "Get out!"

"What is it?" inquired Chekov urgently.

"Just get out! Get out of here, now!"

More slippery red worms oozed out of the body. First a few, then more and more. They flowed down to the deck and across it toward the landing party.

"Now!" ordered the medtech, grabbing at Colton's arm.

The team shuffled quickly out of the transporter room. Once they were out, Blake turned around and fiddled with the door controls, then fired his phaser down the line separating the two parts of the door. They were now sealed outside of the transporter room.

"Did you see that?" cried Azleya. "What the hell was that?!"

Trembling, Peter said, "Regulan bloodworms…."

Everyone else was now just as shocked and horrified. Even the usually compassionate Terim Azleya twisted her face in horrified disgust, her purplish-blue eyes widening in horror. Colton numbly fumbled with his phaser rifle for a moment until he aimed the rifle at the door.

Chekov, numbed by the news, fumbled with his communicator as he activated it. "Commander Chekov to Excelsior."

"_Excelsior here,"_ said Janice Rand.

"Ve…Ve…." Chekov swallowed and took control of his voice and himself. "The Majestic is infected with Regulan bloodworms."

A shocked silence came through the communicator. And then: _"Sir? Can you repeat that?"_

Chekov looked up at the others. Terim Azleya, Colton Ford and Peter Tiefen. He could see the death sentence in their eyes.

"_Sir? Commander Chekov?"_

He whispered, almost to himself, "Ve are dead."

**USS Excelsior**

_Captain's log, supplemental. Commander Chekov has reported that the starship Majestic is infected with Regulan bloodworms. The mystery of the ship's presence at the edge of Vorlon space has deepened with this piece of unwelcome news. What could a Federation starship be doing with the deadly plasmasites onboard? There is no cure for the lethal infection and there is a standing order to destroy any vessels that are contaminated. For personal reasons, I hesitate to carry out this order. I would like to see if there is anything that could be done before I resort to not only destroying the Majestic, but also murdering my friends and crewmates onboard. In the meantime, we are left with this question: What is a Federation starship doing at the edge of Vorlon space, carrying such a dangerous contraband as Regulan bloodworms?_

Angelo Tiffe exclaimed, "Il Dio mio! Regulan bloodworms! But…but it's impossible! How did it get here?"

Ensign Tuvok said, "Insufficient data. I doubt it is indigenous to this universe. Regulan bloodworms have been known to Vulcan science for centuries. However, it developed its deadliness when the only recorded plasmasite infection occurred on the fourth planet of the Regulan System seventy-nine years ago. Since then, a plague of Regulan bloodworms is virtually unknown."

"Until now," said Janice shakily.

Sulu nodded. "Until now. As I recall, Regulus IV has been quarantined." He looked suspiciously at the vista of the Majestic on the main viewscreen. "It's clear that the quarantine has been breached. If, of course, the infection didn't come from this universe." He leaned forward, resting his chin on a hand, and glared at the drifting Miranda-class starship. Mr. Tiffe pointed out an excellent question: How did it get here? But Sulu had to wonder _why_ it was here.

He rubbed his chin. "I wonder."

**USS Majestic**

"Sir."

Chekov halted the team's progress through a corridor. "What is it, Mr. Tiefen?"

The doctor held out his medical tricorder out in front of himself. "I'm picking up life signs. They seem to be coming through that."

Following Peter's pointing finger, they saw that the life signs were coming from a wide double door.

"That's a cargo bay," Azleya pointed out helpfully.

Chekov nodded at Colton, Peter and Azleya who then went up to the door. Blake pressed his back up against the wall beside the door. When he saw that the others were ready with their phasers, he pressed a button in the control panel beside the door.

Colton and Azleya ran through the open door and halted midstride.

Peter and Chekov entered the dim cargo bay and peered at where the engineer and the security officer were aiming their flashlights. A group of people huddling behind an energy force field in the cargo bay, blinking and squinting at the light shining on them.

Survivors!

The commander hurriedly went as close as he could to the energy barrier. "I'm Commander Pavel Andreievich Chekov of the starship Excelsior. How many of you are here?"

A distinctly Vulcan woman came through the huddled mass. "There are twelve of us."

Chekov's jaw dropped. "Saavik…?"

A slanted eyebrow rose slightly. "It is indeed I," she said simply.

Recovering from the surprise of seeing Saavik, Chekov said, "Are there any other survivor somewhere else on the ship?"

"No, sir."

The Excelsior's landing party gaped at Saavik.

Peter peered at the survivors. "Just how many people were there before you became twelve people?"

Coolly, Saavik responded, "Two-hundred and twenty crewmembers."

The nurse gasped. "220! Only 12 out of 220!"

**USS Excelsior**

Captain Sulu was also shocked at the death rate onboard the Majestic. Twelve out of 220 crewmembers. Atrocious! What the hell is going on here?

"_Sir?"_ prompted Chekov over the communications link.

Sulu looked at Akaar and Tuvok. Both the Capellan and Vulcan subtly shook their heads. The captain sighed. The landing party had requested to be beamed over to the Excelsior, preferably into a quarantine room. It was too risky. "Mr. Tuvok, tell me again."

The Vulcan took the posture of a lecturer. "The infection is airborne and carried by the bloodworms which are, by their nature, plasmasites rather than parasites. Once a person is in the contaminated environment, he is immediately infected. Depending on the immunology, the victim soon develops a fever. If the bloodworms are unable to attack the victim and consume his fluids, he will develop symptoms similar to the Symbalene Blood-burn within hours, but much slower than the actual thing. The pathogen, as you are aware, causes the vascular lining to literally boil away. The initial symptoms include a critical rise in body temperature and blood pressure, followed by extreme pain in the extremities and the rupture of the capillaries. Death usually follows. If this does not occur yet, the pathogen soon develops infant bloodworms which then make their way out of the body, thereby killing the victim."

Sulu stared at Tuvok. How could the recitation not affect the calm Vulcan?

"Unlike Symbalene," continued Ensign Tuvok, "the effect is stretched over hours or days. Depending on the race's immunity and transportation technology, the Regulan bloodworms could infect a whole planet of 3 billion inhabitants in approximately a week. In another week or so, depending on their immunology, the entire population would be dead. It is far too dangerous to risk exposing the Excelsior to the Regulan bloodworms. Sir, I must remind you of the standing Starfleet order to destroy all contaminated vessels. Rescue is not to be attempted."

The captain felt trapped. He knew about the order only too well. General Order 22. It came into being initially because of the plague on Regulus IV in the year 2214. It required Federation personnel to destroy all infected space structures and ships and to not attempt any rescue whatsoever. Over the years, the order came to be paired with General Order 24, the order to destroy all life on a planet, to prevent future visitors from getting infected and spreading the pathogen to other worlds. In this context, the bloodworms were indeed a hostile threat to the Federation, as required for the implementation of General Order 24. Nowadays, either order has come to mean the elimination of all life that has posed a threat to the Federation as a whole. But he couldn't bring himself to murder his friends such as Pavel Chekov and Saavik. Akaar recognized the dilemma.

"Captain, killing them would be a mercy," said Akaar.

"There is no known cure," put in Tuvok. "There is no record of anybody surviving the plasmasites."

"The order is clear," pressed Akaar.

"I…I'm not ready to give that…that kind of order," said Sulu.

The Capellan security chief's face became harder. "Captain…if you refuse to carry out the order, I'm required to relieve you of command and carry it out anyway."

Sulu frowned at Akaar. Since Wolf 359 and Mars, the Capellan had been become a hard man. "I didn't say I was refusing the order," he said. "I'm just not ready to give it…now. We need to talk about this. Think about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," said Akaar. "Nothing to think about. Just do it. It will be easier."

Tuvok then said, "Too many ships were lost attempting rescues, Captain. There is no alternative. The orders are specific. Complete and total destruction of any infected vessel and planet. Including crew, passengers and inhabitants. The order saved the colonies at Regulus III and V. Rescue is not to be attempted."

Taking a deep breath, Sulu signaled Rand to re-open frequencies. "Commander, you are aware of the standing Starfleet order concerning contaminated vessels?"

"_Uh, yes, sir. But sir, you can't do that."_

"I understand. You wouldn't like the symptoms of the bloodworms that you will develop."

"_I know, sir. That's not what I mean. Saavik has informed me that the bloodworms has mutated. If you destroy the Majestic, the bloodworms will survive and drift in space until they reach a planet or are picked up by a passing wessel. Even if they don't, they'll remain in close orbit around the star, living on its heat. There will be a feeding and breeding frenzy among the plasmasites in the star's corona."_

"A whole star getting infected?" said Sulu incredulously.

"_Just the corona, sir."_ Sulu recognized Saavik's voice. _"If any of the plasmasites manage to get inside the star, the bloodworms would be completely destroyed. With the plasmasites in the corona, a stellar event such as a nova will create a shock wave of plasmasites in all directions across the galaxy where they'd infect more stars and planets where they're captured by gravity fields if they aren't picked up by passing ships. There will be a grace period of billions of years before that happens, but it will happen. Certainly, if a passing vessel picks up the plasmasites, the grace period will be moot."_

The bridge crew blanched at this new piece of information. "Damned if we do. Damned if we don't," muttered Sulu.

Saavik didn't have to describe what would happen if a passing ship picked up the plasmasites. This star system was isolated and didn't have a jumpgate or jumpbeacon. Still, there's the possibility that someone might investigate this system, get infected and bring the plasmasites to an inhabited planet. The locals didn't have the controlled circumstances of Federation space and Starfleet nor did they know about the protocols concerning Regulan bloodworms. An infection in this universe would be nothing short of…apocalyptic.

"_Sir?"_ Sulu could hear the rising panic in Chekov's voice._ "The…the bloodworms are getting through the doors."_

This just keeps getting better and better. Sulu pressed the intercom button in his command chair. "Bridge to main transporter room."

The bridge crew looked around at their captain and held their breath.

"_Transporter room one, here."_

"Can you beam the landing party into the secured area behind the force field on the Majestic?"

"_Site to site transport on another ship? Through a force field? I-I think I can, sir."_

"Do it."

**USS Majestic**

"Oh no—" Azleya was pointing at the cargo bay doors. "Commander!"

Three red worms were crawling through the middle seam of the doors.

"Stay back!" cautioned Colton.


	33. Grounds for CourtMartial

_archiev: Your hope is not unfounded. The story continues here:)_

_Master of the Boot: The master mind behind this scheme, as you call it, will be eventually revealed._

_Gaby: Why do you think Kirk is under Shadow control? He cannot be independent?_

* * *

USS Majestic 

"Oh no—" Azleya was pointing at the cargo bay doors. "Commander!"

Three red worms were crawling through the middle seam of the doors.

"Stay back!" cautioned Colton.

Colton trained his phaser rifle on the door leading into the cargo bay. Azleya and Chekov likewise trained their own phasers on the door. Each announcement from Peter Tiefen about the number of bloodworms behind the doors made them more and more tense. The Majestic's 12 survivors watched silently from behind their barrier, unable to help.

Chekov spoke into his open communicator. "Keptin…?" He felt he should be sweating. "Mr. Ford, are you sure you locked the door?"

"Yes, Commander," replied Colton through gritted teeth. "How the hell—?"

"It won't hold them." Saavik's voice was now taut with tension. "Clearly, they are still mutating."

There were pinpoint holes in the doors. As they watched, another and another of the scarlet worms came burrowing through the door surface. Somehow, the bloodworms had developed similar capabilities to those of the Horta.

"Keptin!" prompted Chekov anxiously.

More bloodworms appeared in the doors, enough to create a stream dripping down its surface. The first trickle of a scarlet waterfall. Colton fired his phaser rifle. The bloodworms stiffened and shivered, trilling angrily. Then they seemed to shake off the phaser effect and continued to slither down the doors. Soon, a veritable lake of bloodworms formed at the bottom of the doors, writhing and sniffing at the air. It had a disturbing resemblance to a lake of red fire.

"Keptin!" Chekov was now screaming.

More bloodworms burrowed through the doors. The landing party began firing their phasers at them, but there were too many and the phasers were having little effect on them. More were coming from all over the ship, joining the attack on the living humanoids.

A tingling feeling overtook the party. They were relieved to recognize the transporter effect. Almost immediately, they found themselves behind the energy barrier with the survivors.

Captain Sulu's voice came through the communicator. It was full of heart-stopping worry. _"Pavel? Are you all right?"_

"Uhh, as all right as I can be with my frayed nerves. That was a damned close call, Keptin." Chekov glanced at the bloodworms which were now flooding the entire cargo bay outside the force field.

"_Sorry. The transporter operator had some difficulties with the rematerialization subroutines. She was being careful about you not materializing on the transporter pad."_

"Much obliged," said Tiefen sarcastically, watching the bloodworms poke and probe at the force field. The field held but glittered at each touch. Meanwhile, more were pouring through the now porous doors.

"Thank you, Keptin." With that, Chekov shut off his communicator.

"Will the field hold?" Colton nodded at the force field which was now a constant glitter holding back the scarlet flood.

Saavik said, "It will. But by constantly testing the field, the bloodworms are draining the power. It won't remain energized for long."

Chekov peered around at the survivors in the gloom. He was surprised to recognize a few of the survivors.

"Winston Kyle? Paul Beach?"

The named men wearily smiled at the commander. "Hey, long time no see!" said Beach.

Kyle nodded. "We sometimes talk about our days on the Reliant. That was a good ship, sir."

"Yes, it was." Chekov wasn't in the mood to reminisce about those days. Captain Clark Terrell was his friend, and he didn't like to think about Khan Singh. "What's going on here?"

Out of the gloom came two people—a middle-aged man and a young thin handsome blonde woman.

"I'm Captain David Jefferson," said the man. "I'm the leader of this expedition." He turned to the woman. "And this is my yeoman, Ensign Alynna Nechayev."

The willowy Russian blonde woman gave a short curt nod. "Sir." She didn't seem inclined to be friendly.

Chekov chalked it off to the trauma of her experience and to being obviously new to her post. New ensigns tend to act more militant than the more experienced officers. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, we have the authority to be here," said the captain stiffly. "We're a research vessel sent to study the life forms of this universe."

"Including Regulan bloodworms?" interjected Peter skeptically.

"Ah, yes. It wasn't our intention."

Chekov looked to Saavik for confirmation. She didn't look back at him. He said, "Okay, if you're here only for research, then what are you doing at the edge of Vorlon space?"

"Ah well." Jefferson shrugged as if it was an insignificant matter. "Starfleet Command was concerned about the reports of the Shadows and the Vorlons. Of course, we know about the Shadows' military capabilities. Mostly, anyway. We don't know much about the Vorlon military capabilities. Command needs to know."

"So you are on a spy mission as well?" put in Azleya, disgusted.

Nechayev interjected, "Not a spy mission. We're merely…gathering much needed intelligence."

Chekov nodded as if he understood the motives, and then turned away to hide his frown. If they were just investigating this universe, why the Regulan bloodworms? Were there counterparts of the bloodworms in this universe? "Lieutenant Azleya? Opinion on the force field's status?"

"Like Saavik said, it will hold. But not for long. Maybe thirty hours."

Peter sidled up to Saavik. He spoke quietly so as not to be overheard by Captain Jefferson. "Are these Regulan bloodworms native to this universe? Are you studying them?"

A little contritely, she replied, "I am one of the scientists responsible on this ship. I cannot say any more. I'm under orders." Her eyes discretely flicked over at Jefferson.

Peter gazed at the Vulcan woman silently for a while, trying to figure her out. And then: "All right. What can you tell me about the bloodworms?"

"We have learned that the plasmasites are attracted to certain oxygen-bearing enzymes in the blood. We have attempted to create plasmasite-inhibitors. As yet, we have not succeeded."

"Okay. I can get the Excelsior to look for one, too. I won't accept that this is the end for us."

Saavik only looked up at Peter. He was surprised to see shame, sadness and guilt in her eyes.

**USS Excelsior**

_Captain's log, supplemental. We have established a remote computer link with the Majestic and are downloading the research information gathered on the plasmasites. I recognize the fact that it's only a delaying tactic before I must give the order to destroy the _Majestic_. Even then, I am concerned about the strength of the Regulan bloodworms. Time is valuable here: the force field protecting the survivors wouldn't hold for more than thirty hours; the survivors are infected themselves and it's only a matter of time before the pathogen develops new bloodworms in their bodies; we do not know how long we have before the Vorlons notice us and send a response. If they haven't already. All accounts point to ships vanishing, never to be heard from again. Of course, I want Babylon 5 and the Federation to hear from us again._

_Needless to say, I am still disturbed about the whole thing._

Sulu, Akaar and Doctor Christine Chapel were in the captain's office. The Chief of Security was still trying to adhere to the standing Starfleet orders.

"The orders still stand, Captain. The Regulan bloodworms have mutated. So what? Destroy the ship and let's get out of here before we alert the Vorlons."

Doctor Chapel gave the Capellan man a pained look. "Akaar, you heard what they said. If we destroy the ship, the explosion might just attract the Vorlons' attention. Any ship they send would be infected by the bloodworms. Then we'd be responsible for infecting the Vorlon Empire. That's not acceptable. We need alternatives."

"There is no alternative," said Akaar. "The orders are specific. Stay, and the Vorlons attack, which will likely mean a war between the Federation and the Vorlon Empire. Destroy the Majestic, leave, and the Vorlons might, _might_, come and get infected which would happen only if they come. I know which action I would take."

Sulu's expression tightened as if he was reminding himself not to kill the bearer of bad news. He turned to an intercom unit on the wall. "Security to Captain's office. On the double."

He looked to Akaar. His voice was now hard-edged. "I know the orders, Mr. Akaar. I know why they were written. I know what I am required to do. That doesn't mean I'm not allowed to consult with other officers. I will not be pressured into any action—not by you, not by Starfleet Command."

The door slid open to admit two armored and helmeted security officers. Sulu continued talking.

"If you make any attempt to relieve me of my command, Mr. Akaar, you will be charged with mutiny. Are we clear?"

The Capellan stared back at the captain with a hard expression.

Sulu turned to Chapel. "All right, Doctor. Go ahead."

"There's not a lot to say. Lieutenant Tiefen reported that they found out that the plasmasites are attracted to oxygen-bearing enzymes in the blood. The Majestic looked for a cure. If we looked at the records we're downloading, we might, _might_, find something like a cure." She sighed. "Captain, we're grasping at straws here. They're my friends, too, but we can't risk exposing ourselves."

"Just answer me this, Doctor: if I ordered you to analyze the Majestic's records and find something we can use against the bloodworms, can I depend on you?"

"Yes," was all that Chapel could say with a glance at Akaar.

"All right. Let's do this."

"Captain," Chapel didn't appear to want to pursue this subject any further but her professionalism forced her to. "I'm not comfortable with this."

"None of us are."

"If they were experimenting with plasmasite-inhibitors, I'll need to know all about it. I need time here, Captain."

"Time is what we don't have, Dr. Chapel. We've got less than thirty hours of force field power aboard the Majestic and who knows how long before the Vorlons come."

"Yes, sir. If we could, we might be able to get our people off that ship. There's still the matter of the ship itself."

"We'll get there when we get there," replied Sulu tersely.

"And then what?" demanded Akaar. "Then we have an infection aboard this starship, in violation of a standing order."

"Mr. Akaar," Hikaru Sulu faced the Capellan coldly. "Do I have to put you under arrest and throw you in the brig?"

"No, sir," he said.

"Thank you, Commander. Let's hop to it."

/\

In the starship's sickbay, Doctors Altos Viger and Christine Chapel stood close together to study the information downloaded from the Majestic. The Bolian and the human looked up at each other, simultaneously getting an idea.

Christine went over to an intercom panel. "Captain, we—"

At that moment, Captain Sulu strode into Sickbay.

"Ah, impeccable timing!" said Altos.

Sulu looked from doctor to doctor. "May I assume you've found something?"

"Oh yes, you may! It was a good thing we had the research notes from the Majestic." Dr. Altos was positively brimming with excitement. "Doctor Chapel, do the honor!"

"Well, I think that it may be possible to save the people trapped on the Majestic. The bloodworms are attracted to oxygen-bearing enzymes in the blood, so if we can suppress the enzymes, the bloodworms will die almost immediately. We'll have to make the enzyme-suppressants here and beam them over to the Majestic for injection." Christine hesitated.

"Don't tell me. There's a catch," said Sulu.

"With most viral or bacterial infections, the risk of disease is determined by the depth of exposure. A few strands, a few cells are not enough to infect a person. For many diseases, the body can flush out even the most toxic material if the exposure is small enough. This is not true for the plasmasites. A single cell in the bloodstream is enough to infect a person entirely. Just treating the infected person isn't enough. If there's any one cell left, he'd be re-infected all over again. Total decontamination is required."

"That's good, isn't it?" Sulu couldn't see what the problem was.

Christine took a deep breath. "The real problem, Captain, is the immediate re-infection of the patient. We'd have to completely replace the patient's blood. If we do it, we will have to beam each of the survivors to the Excelsior for a complete blood replacement in less than three minutes to save their lives. We'll need to collect all of the artificial blood we have. And be quick about the whole thing. Just three minutes to do the transfusion or we start damaging the patient. The whole process will take less than ten minutes." Worry overtook her face. "The human brain can last about six minutes without oxygen. Maybe four or less without blood, but we have to consider other problems such as arterial and venous collapse, pressure changes in the organs."

Dr. Altos said, "We could increase the lymph production to compensate for the loss of blood pressure."

"That might work, Doctor." Christine still looked worried, though. "There's a lot that can go wrong. Organ failures for even those few minutes. Just less than ten minutes and a lot of catastrophic changes in the body can happen."

Altos nodded. "Can you imagine what would happen if the veins in the eyes collapsed even for a couple minutes? Everything is connected."

"Can't we do it fast enough?" wondered Sulu.

Christine gently bit her lower lip in thought. "Maybe. Maybe not. The human heart can pump most blood out of the body in about a minute. We can help it along. Speed is essential, but it's even more important how the body would take the pressure of a forced speed transfusion, how the heart would take it."

"We'll have to do it in an isolation ward," added Dr. Altos. "The simple procedure of beaming the patient to the transporter room and moving him to Sickbay would take too much time. Not to mention risking infection of the transporter room, the intervening corridor and Sickbay, thereby the entire ship. We'll have to set up a temporary isolation ward in one of the cargo bays, using the cargo transporter to beam over the patient. Of course, all personnel in the bay would have to suit up."

"What happens if the procedure fails and the personnel are infected?"

Altos and Chapel became grim and looked at each other. "Open the cargo bay doors and flush everything out to space if that happens."

Sulu stared. That meant anyone in the bay would be sucked out in space. Anyone not properly protected would die. And any suited infected personnel would be left to die alone in space. Either of suffocation, thirst or infection, whichever comes first. "Can't the transporter just use the biofilters to flush out the toxins?"

Both doctors shook their heads. Christine said, "Remember, just one single cell is enough for re-infection. The transporter biofilters won't catch them all." She shook her head in wonder at all the potential problems. "Perhaps it's fortunate that the pathogen somehow just remains in the bloodstream rather than collecting in the arterial, venous walls and in the organs." She now frowned. "That in itself is very unusual."

The Bolian doctor's face brightened with an idea. "Dr. Chapel, what about stasis? We can beam a stasis unit to the Majestic, put the patient into suspended animation and do the whole procedure with much less risk of damage to the patient?"

The human doctor nodded her head slowly. "That could work. We'd have to outfit the unit with a repulsor force field so that the pathogen wouldn't contaminate it."

Sulu didn't feel like a great burden has lifted off of his shoulders. However, he was relieved that he didn't have to order the destruction of the Majestic and kill everyone aboard. Still, the outlook didn't look exactly promising. It was all very risky. One mistake and the Excelsior becomes a plague ship like the Majestic.

"Do it."

"What about Commander Akaar?"

Sulu grimaced at Altos' question. Of course the grape vine wouldn't suspend its service in the middle of a crisis on the ship. "He'll go along with it."

The Bolian doctor nodded, saying nothing about his thoughts of that situation. As long as Akaar didn't interfere with their job, it wasn't his problem.

/\

A beep sounded at the tactical station on the bridge, attracting the attention of the chief security officer and the captain. Akaar reported, "Sir, someone's trying to make an unauthorized transport. I've locked out the transporter."

Sulu couldn't think of anyone who would try to use the transporter without permission. "Come with me. We'll check it out."

"Yes, sir."

/\

As the captain and the security chief strode through the transporter room door, Sulu halted in his steps, surprised. It was Doctor Christine Chapel in an environment suit working to bypass the lockout in the transporter control console.

"Doctor…?"

"Don't stop me, Captain. Just don't."

"Doctor, the procedure has enough risks in it without you gallivanting over to the Majestic and putting your life on the line. Listen to me, Doctor. The minute we bring anyone over from the Majestic, we're committed. We wouldn't have the option of backing out. The minute that happens, I'm responsible for something that no other ship has ever survived. That's grounds for a court-martial." Sulu resisted rolling his eyes in black humor. "It'd be post-mortem of course if we fail. We cannot tolerate any mistake—"

"Which is why I have to go over there. The cargo bay's all set up. Dr. Altos is there waiting. A professional doctor at both ends of the treatment is better than two doctors stepping on each other's toes on one end and a nurse at the other end."

"And if the procedure fails? That suit you're wearing isn't a guaranteed protection against the bloodworms, you know. You'll die over there."

"You'll have Altos. He's good enough to take over as Chief Medical Officer now."

Sulu couldn't believe that Christine would be that flippant about her life.

"Listen. I know that Pavel is your friend. He's my friend, too. Please do not do this. We're running out of time."

"_They're_ running out of time. Captain, Mr. Tiefen is a talented medtech, but a nurse is no person to handle the procedure and the stress on the Majestic. Mistakes could be made. When mistakes are made in my profession, people die. It's unnecessary. I have to be there. I'm the best person to supervise the treatment."

Sulu looked at her in silence. Professionally and ethically, Christine was right. Still, he'd hate to lose friends. The Enterprise crew has broken up after the death of that starship. The entire task force in this universe came under threat of a court-martial unless that crew conceded to a Command-mandated break up. Another court-martial could very well break up the Excelsior's crew. The death of more than one command-level officer during a violation of standing orders would guarantee it. Even if that didn't happen, Hikaru Sulu and Janice Rand would be the only Enterprise people left in this universe, not counting Montgomery Scott on Minbar. For a person who has been working with the same crew for twenty-five years, loyalty and sentimentality were hard to let go.

When it came down to it, Captain Sulu's objections were more personal than professional.

"All right, Christine. You can go." Nodding to Akaar who had been watching the whole thing, the captain ordered, "Beam her to the Majestic."

"Thank you, sir." With that, Christine picked up her med-kit and stepped onto the transporter pad.

When the light that took the doctor away faded on the transporter pad, Akaar said, "Speaking as a Capellan, I would suggest beating Dr. Chapel for insubordination."

"We don't do that in the Fleet."

"Stupid policy. Corporal punishment slows down repeat offenders."

Sulu wasn't sure whether Akaar was joking or not. Due to their rigid code of honor and ethics against any form of lying, Capellans weren't known for their humor.

As Sulu and Akaar walked down the corridor to a turbolift, a crewman approached them, holding a compadd. The captain expected him to step out of their way, but he didn't.

"Captain, I have a petition here for you." The crewman handed the padd to Sulu who was now annoyed. He didn't look at the list of names.

"Is this official?"

"I'm afraid so. I have to ask you to not proceed with the rescue operation. This petition shows that the crew is concerned—"

"Afraid, you mean?"

The crewman wasn't embarrassed. "Yes, sir. Some of the crew are afraid that the Excelsior will be infected. The Majestic did everything they could to stop the pathogen. Now it is infected. What would prevent us from being infected too?"

"I have every confidence in the doctors."

"One mistake can turn us into a plague ship. We're human. We're not perfect. So mistakes will be made." The crewman looked straight into Sulu's eyes. With this gesture, he was implying that any such mistake would be the captain's fault. "The bloodworms give only bad deaths. We don't want to die."

Acidly, Sulu said, "This is not a democracy. The crew doesn't get a vote. We are not going to abandon our crewmates. And we're not throwing away half the human race because the other half is scared. Go back to your station, crewman. I've already told the doctors to proceed."

The crewman nodded as if he had been expecting this answer. "Yes, sir. We'll be logging a formal protest."

Annoyed, Sulu dismissed the crewman and watched him walk off. He shook his head in wry amazement and said, "A formal protest? Give me a break. If we survive, I may get a court-martial for breaking the standing orders."

The big Capellan's face was carefully blank.

"You know, Commander, you may have a point," Sulu added.

Akaar raised an eyebrow, silently asking what the captain was talking about.

"About policy."

"Oh," said Akaar. "Would you like me to…?"

Captain Sulu sighed. "We're not Capellans."


	34. Blood in the Fire

**Unnamed Star System**

**Edge of Vorlon Space**

A red giant star feebly burned. Flares slowly licked out of the aging star's surface, some arcing back down. Knots and groupings of sunspots mottled the surface, making the star's glow even feebler. The red giant's size, the radius of which would reach Jupiter's orbit in the Sol System, made two Federation starships seem much smaller and much harder to find. The larger of the two ships, the Excelsior held station near the smaller and unlit Miranda-class starship. The feeble red-orange light of the star and its tongues of flame revealed the name Majestic on its hull.

**USS Majestic NCC-31060**

Dr. Christine Chapel was studying the readings on her medical tricorder. She was feeling like she tasted something repulsive. Her environment suit was not having much effect against infection. It slowed down the infection, to be sure, but Christine was infected as soon as she beamed over. "Lieutenant Saavik?"

The Vulcan woman had been working closely with the doctor and Peter Tiefen, setting up the treatment apparatus. "Doctor?"

"Look at these readings. Nothing that can process oxygen would be immune to the bloodworms. Only an ecosphere with silicon-based life can keep the bloodworms under control. Regulus IV is a class-M planet. Are they native to it? What controls them in their environment?"

The Majestic's captain, David Jefferson, heard the question. "That's classified information, Doctor. It's on a need to know basis."

Christine grimaced. Clearly, this particular captain was of a more military bent than many other Starfleet captains. She has met other such captains before. "I need to know, Captain. The information will refine the treatment."

"Negative. Your concern, Doctor, should be with the treatment itself. Knowing about the plasmasites' natural environment is irrelevant."

Christine was having a hard time believing the man's audacity to stonewall her. "Answer me, Lieutenant Saavik."

"Belay that," said Jefferson. "You do not have a need to know, Doctor."

The human doctor was getting angry with the indifferent Captain Jefferson. "The Chief Medical Officer outranks the captain in health matters."

"And you're not my chief medical officer."

She looked around at the survivors huddling in the dimness lit only by the force field holding the massing bloodworms at bay. She had to find ways to get past Jefferson's stonewall. Since he was of a military bent, he would likely to be a by-the-book man. "I'm sorry to be so blunt but you do not have a doctor anymore. So I am now the Majestic's Chief Medical Officer. You do not want me to use Protocol 121, Section A."

Jefferson now looked angry. Protocol 121, Section A permitted a chief medical officer the power to relieve an officer or crewmember, including a superior one, of their duties if in the officer's professional judgment he or she is medically unfit. Dr. Chapel could use the bloodworm infection in the captain as a pretext for the protocol, never mind the fact that the doctor was now infected despite her environment suit. He silently turned away to quietly talk with Yeoman Nechayev. Clearly, he would not be interfering anymore.

"Well?" pressed Tiefen. He also wanted Saavik to answer Christine's question.

Saavik subtly sighed and said, "The bloodworms are native to Regulus IV. There is no natural control on the plasmacites in their native environment because they were actually engineered to be a weapon of war. We are uncertain about the definite identity of the creator."

"A weapon?" Christine was aghast. Bioweapons were a Pandora's Box that most military officers are loath to open. Especially when they were as deadly and uncontrollable as Regulan bloodworms.

"Indeed. The Regulan bloodworms were a doomsday weapon."

"Well, it worked," Christine said resentfully before turning away to speak into her communicator. She was wondering why Starfleet officers were working with doomsday weapons. The last time they did was during the Romulan War. However, the Genesis Device could be termed a doomsday weapon if misused, but that was not Starfleet's intent. "Captain Sulu? Did you hear that?"

"_Yes. We'll talk later. For now, stay on purpose."_

She was thankful that in medical emergencies, comm. channels were required to be permanently open.

"All right."

-/\-

"A doomsday weapon." Ford shook his head at the idea. Sitting on the deck, the security officer touched his phaser rifle. He was itching to shoot the person who modified the Regulan bloodworms into a bioweapon. He looked up at Nurse Tiefen who was checking data in his medical tricorder. "Peter, I've seen the records at the Academy." He grimaced at the memory as Tiefen squatted on the deck to clasp a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"The classes about biological and chemical weapons were horrible. Whenever they plan to show recordings of them and their effects, they would set a sick bag beside each of us."

Tiefen nodded in distaste. "They sometimes did that for my classes too. Some of the diseases were not pretty at all."

"Yeah, but I saw diseases that were artificial, diseases that were unleashed on purpose." Ford shuddered.

"I remember my lesson on Regulan bloodworms," said Tiefen, nodding. "The colonists at Regulus IV all died. Starfleet prevented some of them from escaping on ships from the planet. Toward the end, they…they had to shoot down all ships attempting to escape. When the first infection was detected on the orbiting space station, Starfleet Command activated the self-destruct by remote."

"I remember that part. My instructor used it as an example of what we must do if the situation requires it. If they didn't do it, someone might have escaped the quarantine zone and spread the infection to the rest of the Federation and the galaxy. That would be the end for the Federation. It was still young in 2214. The end of life and civilization everywhere. Even the pre-warp worlds would be affected whenever an infected ship comes across them or whenever they develop the warp drive and visit infected planets." Ford paused and added, shaking his head again, "Now that we know it's a doomsday weapon, it certainly fits."

"What Starfleet Command did saved the colonies at Regulus III and V." Tiefen sighed. "Certainly didn't save the people at Regulus IV." Now the nurse was angry. "Whoever did it was stupid. Everyone knows you can't really control a bioweapon, certainly not one that's designed to be a doomsday weapon. In the ensuing paranoia, Starfleet implemented General Order 24 and glassed the bloodworms' home-planet at Regulus II. There are only a few specimens of the pre-plague bloodworms left. Now no one can use them."

"Use?" Ford was puzzled. "People used them?"

Tiefen nodded. "Before they became deadly, doctors sometimes used the bloodworms to clean up the lymphatic system and to filter out toxic antigenic compounds from the bloodstream. Dr. Phlox on the pre-Federation ship Enterprise certainly used them." He looked around at the dim cargo bay. The force field was still active and still glittering at the efforts by the mass of bloodworms trying to break through. He could see the survivors of the Majestic huddling and waiting while Dr. Chapel consulted with Saavik and Dr. Altos Viger on the Excelsior. "I don't know if it's a good idea for Captain Sulu to try this. I'm grateful that he wants to try this." He put an arm around Ford's shoulders and drew him into a sideways hug. "If not for him, we'd be dead right now."

Ford agreed. "The standing order to destroy all infected ships. Yeah." He fell silent and leaned his head onto Tiefen's head.

Commander Chekov came up to the security officer and the nurse. Seeing their reaction to his approach, he held up a hand. "Don't get up on my account." The Russian peered at the men closely. "Are you all right?"

Tiefen and Ford nodded, grateful for the commander's concern.

"How long have you been together?" Chekov asked.

"Since the Academy," Tiefen replied.

"Two long years," chuckled Ford, eliciting a humorous scoff from Tiefen.

"We'll get through this," assured Chekov. "Ve vill celebrate your next anniversary together."

"Thanks, Commander." Tiefen's gratitude was sincere.

"Pavel, please."

"Pavel."

"Dr. Chapel will be ready soon. She'll need your help."

Tiefen gave a nod, recognizing the shift into business mode. "Yes, sir."

When Chekov moved on toward the Denobulan engineer, Terim Azleya, in his duty of making sure of his crewmates' comfort, Tiefen turned to Ford. "Y'know, it's funny."

Ford was looking at Chekov conversing with Azleya. "What is…?"

"How much I worry about you—being on security detail and all. I'm always afraid that—" Tiefen stopped himself before finishing the sentence. "Never mind."

Ford shook his head. "Hey. There's nothing to worry about. Really." He smiled for the first time since coming aboard the Majestic. "We don't have bulls-eyes on our uniforms anymore."

Tiefen gently chided, "Yeah, you can joke, but…." He shook his head. "I know the odds, Colt. I—"

"Hey!" Ford pointed at Tiefen, firmly saying, "Don't talk like that. Now, Peter, get to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Chuckling, Nurse Tiefen pulled off a pre-Starfleet military salute and gave an unmilitary embrace. He got up to work with Dr. Chapel.

**USS Excelsior NCC-2000**

_Captain's log, supplemental. On both the Excelsior and the Majestic, the crew worked feverishly to put the doctors' plan into action. It is error-intolerant and it could be very uncomfortable for the patients. Nevertheless, I have confidence in the doctors. Still, the detractors were right. They include my Chief of Security, Lieutenant Akaar. General Order 22 specifically prohibits any rescue attempt. Therefore, what I am doing is technically against Starfleet standing orders, so they are justified in logging formal protests. I may have been harsh to them at a time when everyone is under a great deal of stress due to the proximity to Vorlon space and the bloodworm infestation. If this rescue succeeds or if, dare I say it, my ship is infected in the attempt, I will do all I can to find out the reasons behind the Majestic's and the bloodworms' presence. Again, I am disturbed by the implications of their presence and by the apparent failure of the quarantine around Regulus IV._

Captain Hikaru Sulu gazed up at the warp core. The blue pulsing glow of core column played on his face.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Sulu started at the voice. He saw that it was the Excelsior's chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Devon Gabler.

"The warp core? Yes it is, Devon."

The blue pulses of the warp core diffused gabler's dark chiseled features. "Almost like gazing at the stars. But that's not what you're really looking at, is it, Captain?"

Sulu smiled softly. Gabler was a fellow crewmate on the original USS Enterprise as a junior engineer. "No, Lieutenant. Some people are nervous about the mission I've given them. Some have even lodged formal protests."

"Shall we have them flogged, Captain?"

The captain looked up, startled. He saw Gabler's grin, signaling that it was a joke. "You know, that's almost exactly what Lieutenant Akaar said."

The engineer laughed. "Let me guess. He suggested beating people up. That's the Capellan culture speaking through him. We were not so different, once."

"Rum, sodomy and the lash. That's how Winston Churchill once described the Royal Navy. But we're past that."

"If you say so, sir," said Gabler with a mischievous grin.

"Don't tell me you've met some of the people who think that Klingons are tame."

"Well, now that you mention it…."

With good-natured severity, Sulu stopped Gabler with a raised hand. "Lieutenant, I said don't tell me."

Gabler grinned for a moment. "Anyway, I came to tell you that I've been in communication with Lieutenant Azleya and the doctors about the problem of safely transporting our people in stasis units. I noticed we haven't addressed the problem of the pods themselves being contaminated by the bloodworms."

Sulu raised his eyebrows in realization. "I thought we're outfitting the stasis pods with a repulsor force field."

"The repulsor won't eliminate all possibilities of contamination. Something could get through, especially if the atmosphere is heavily saturated with undesirables."

The captain sighed. "Now that's a problem. A new problem."

"Until now. My engineering staff is building two stasis units in the isolation ward, one that incorporates transporter technology. We can inject a patient with enzyme-suppressants, wait for the bloodworms to die, then transport him straight into the stasis pod where the docs can do their work."

"Two units? Can the doctors do it?"

"They assured me that they can. Besides, there's little time left before the force field on the Majestic fails."

Nodding, Sulu accepted that. "Let's do it."

**USS Majestic**

The transporter effect faded, revealing monitors and status screens.

"_All set?"_

"Yes, Captain," said Christine. "It's a good thing we got Engineering in on this. I'll ready everything up."

As the doctor turned to Nurse Tiefen, she found David Jefferson and Alynna Nechayev standing at her elbow. Now Captain Jefferson spoke, "Captain Sulu?"

"_Go ahead, Captain."_

"Captain, you'll have to rescue Yeoman Nechayev and myself first."

"_Excuse me?"_

Jefferson was not embarrassed at all. "There's a Starfleet regulation. Regulation 238—"

"_I know the regulation."_ Sulu's voice now sounded acidic.

"Then you know that it mandates that in situations of dire emergency, critically important Starfleet personnel must be rescued first."

Tiefen snorted in contempt. "Right. 'Women and children last.'"

Jefferson barely glanced at the nurse. "You said something, _Lieutenant_?"

Christine stepped in. "Captain Sulu, there are people in very bad shape."

There was a brief pause of silence before the Excelsior's captain replied. _"I'm sorry, Doctor Chapel. Captain Jefferson has precedent on his side. Whatever he and Nechayev know about the plasmacites is too important to risk losing."_

"Yes, Captain." Christine kept her tone neutral.

However, Captain Sulu could recognize the implied disapproval. _"I understand exactly how you feel, Doctor."_

-/\-

Chapel kept her feelings to herself as she ordered Jefferson to lie on a cot. Her tricorder told her that Jefferson's infection was not as bad as it could have been, which meant he must have been in a protected area longer than the others. Her lips thinned at what this implied about the captain's character.

Without warning, she pulled open Jefferson's tunic. She picked up a pair of surgical scissors and, ignoring Jefferson's protests, methodically cut open the turtleneck undershirt, the arms and legs of his uniform. "You should have taken this off before lying down," she said as she slapped sensor monitors onto his chest, arms, wrists, neck, forehead, belly, groin, legs and ankles. Her expression betrayed nothing. Behind her, Tiefen was quietly helping Nechayev undress before echoing the doctor's application of monitors.

"All right," she said blandly, "Let's see if this works. Congratulations on being the first person to receive the anti-bloodworm treatment." Christine prepared the hyposprays while saying, "There are plasmacite detectors in the sensor monitors. You'll be constantly scanned. If the monitors get a positive reading, you'll be held in transporter stasis, bounced back here…or dumped into space. It depends on the circumstances."

Jefferson's eyes widened. "You're kidding—"

"I'm not." Christine turned her back on Jefferson to see whether Tiefen did his work satisfactorily. "Excelsior, is everything ready?"

"_Yes, Doctor."_

Christine curtly nodded. To Jefferson, she said, "Sorry we can't sedate you. There's too much risk. But it shouldn't hurt…too much." With that, she pressed a hypospray upon Jefferson's neck artery. "There. If the enzyme-suppressant works, the bloodworms should disintegrate soon."

Tiefen peered at a monitor screen. He could not resist smiling with delight. "It's working!"

Christine nodded, still looking bland. "You should start feeling it any second now, Captain. A tingly sensation, like pins and needles all over, but only on the inside? Right about now, it should be increasing, like it's becoming a burning sensation?"

Jefferson's face was ashen. He was definitely feeling it.

She replaced the empty clip with a new clip of suppressant and pressed the hypospray again. "That should pass soon."

It was true. The Majestic's captain thought it was because he was getting used to it, but he was starting to feel tired and out of breath. Very quickly, he felt beyond fatigue and exhaustion, as if he was dying except he felt too tired to die.

Christine clinically knew what Jefferson was feeling. She nodded and said, "That's the bloodworms dying." Indeed, she could see the bloodworm count dropping on a screen panel. Inside Jefferson's body, the bloodworms were quickly starving to death, but they were disintegrating into toxic residue and were taking the red blood cells down with them. Therefore, Jefferson's body was no longer getting enough oxygen. She could see that when the captain began to look out of breath. His eyes now began to look unfocused and to wander. She thought that should be caused by the carbon dioxide hallucinations resulting from the quick progression from hypoxia through hypoxemia to anoxia.

"Relax, Captain. Everything will be fine." The doctor crisply turned away to double-check Tiefen's handiwork on Yeoman Nechayev. She said loud enough for Jefferson to hear, "We'll start with you as soon as Excelsior confirms that Captain Jefferson survived the procedure. If he doesn't survive…." She shrugged. "We always make a rough draft before perfecting our work, don't we?"

Returning to Jefferson, she saw that he looked like he was about to pass out. "You're doing fine. Only twenty seconds to go. Do you want me to count them down for you? No?" She casually turned away from Jefferson's eloquently terrified expression and studied the screens showing the sensor readings of his body. "Excelsior, are you getting the readings?"

"_Affirmative."_

"Can we handle giving him another twenty seconds, just to be sure?"

"_It's your call, Doctor. We can hyper-oxygenate, but there are limits to what we can do."_

"Hear that, Jefferson? Nothing to worry about. Soon, you'll have fresh blood substitute pumping into you. You'll feel normal in about a week or so. Ah! Panel says you're clean, Captain. No more plasmacites. All that's left to do is to beam you over to Excel— Oops! Dropped my tricorder, just a minute."

As Christine bent to retrieve the med-tricorder, Commander Chekov could see the glint of gleeful mischief on her face. "Commander Chapel," he said quietly with a hidden half-smile, "that's enough."

"Aye, aye, sir." Now her manners were crisp and efficient. She saw that Jefferson had passed out. Once more, she made sure that there were no plasmacite left in the captain. "Excelsior, Captain Jefferson is ready for transport."

Immediately, the transporter effect took hold of the unconscious captain and covered him with glittering motes of light until he faded away from existence. Once done, Christine Chapel turned back to the nervous Nechayev, glancing at the watching Chekov.

Chekov's expression was carefully neutral. "You could work on your bedside manner."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't."

**USS Excelsior**

Doctor Altos Viger watched as the glow of the transporter effect faded within the stasis pod. Immediately, the status reading screens lit up. He had to remember to thank Commander Gabler for creating the stasis units with built-in transporters. Otherwise, there would be a greater chance for the need to open the cargo bay doors and flush everything out into space.

The environment-suited Bolian doctor cracked his fingers. "All right. Let's transfuse the bastard."

He checked the hoses and injectors in the stasis pod to be sure all was in order. He pressed commands in the control panel beside the pod. Soon, the control panel was reciting blood pressure, body temperature, heart rate, oxygenation and other readings. In Altos' opinion, the most important was "No detectable plasmacites."

Altos was delighted. However, he still needed to get the toxic residue out of the bloodstream. He checked the display on the overhead unit and looked across the closed pod at a nurse. If the patient was not in stasis, he would be experiencing considerable pain. The biggest problem in any injury was system shock. It did not matter if a doctor pumped saline or blood-substitute, he needed to get fluid into a body as fast as he could.

Altos checked the pumps, grateful for the technology behind them. Back when people still used IV-drips, patients often died on the way to a hospital or suffered unnecessary damage. The Bolian frowned. "We're using too much artificial blood. Get another rack from Sick Bay."

Soon, Altos was sure that Jefferson would survive the procedure. "We did it! We just made medical history!" He turned to a comm. panel. "Doctor Chapel, start the next patient. I think we can sedate the patients before injecting the enzyme-suppressants. We're going to do the procedure in a staggered series. The second stasis unit is waiting."

This time, the procedure seemed to go faster now that they knew what to do when Nechayev beamed into the second pod. As soon as Jefferson's transfusion was complete, he was brought out of stasis and nurses carried him out to make room for the next patient.

"We've got fifteen patients to go and we're running out of time." After a glance at a display, Altos added, "And artificial blood as well."

As he worked efficiently, he wondered why Starfleet officers were working with such a doomsday weapon as Regulan bloodworms.

**USS Majestic**

From now on, each patient would be carefully sedated, carefully injected with enzyme-suppressants and carefully transported into a stasis unit. The procedure was repetitious and boredom was a danger, but everything went efficiently enough.

Just as Dr. Chapel was preparing her ninth patient, the visible glittering glow of the force field sputtered. The humming tone of the field interrupted. It seemed to hesitate before it shifted its tone as it compensated for the momentary hiccup and went back to full strength.

Christine looked up from the cot at Nurse Tiefen. In the dim cargo bay, everyone noticed and exchanged glances.

Saavik voiced everyone's thoughts. "The force field is losing strength. It will not maintain itself much longer."

Terim Azleya checked her engineering tricorder reading and held out a hand to feel the static electricity emanating from the force field. "I think we have forty minutes. An hour maximum. Doctor, we have to speed this up."

"We'll make it," assured Christine. When she caught Tiefen's worried glance, she added, "Barely."

The nurse nodded and shuddered. He did not like the thought of being eaten alive by worms. He went back to work, studiously ignoring the veritable lake of flame-red wriggling worms held back by the force field.

He hoped they would all make it in time before being overtaken by the bloodworms.

**USS Excelsior**

Captain Sulu was trying to read a book. For the past hour, he had been on the same page because his mind was preoccupied with the consequences of this operation. There was no question about it: after an extended quarantine of the cargo bay and of the Excelsior, he would be brought before a Starfleet board of inquiry. The inquiry board would ask him if he had knowingly violated a standing order. Sulu would answer in the affirmative.

The admiral chairing the board would be sympathetic and make noises about extenuating circumstances not mitigating the offense and how important it was to maintain the chain of command in Starfleet. It would be all despite the fact that his crew effectively ended one of the most dangerous scourges in known space. The fact would remain that Captain Sulu knowingly put his ship and crew at terminal risk in violation of a standing order, therefore the board would have no choice but to recommend that he stand before a court-martial.

This was precisely why Akaar confronted him the way he did, forcing the captain to threaten the brig. However, did Sulu really violate a standing order? This was a case of a collision of priorities. There were other orders that gave him the authority to do what he did, such as the order to do whatever he could to preserve the lives of his crew and to preserve his starship. His duty required him to do all he could to accomplish that.

Sulu could argue that to the board. He hoped he would not have to leave the Star Service, but if he had to do it all over again, he would.

The ship's intercom whistled for attention.

"_Doctor Altos to Captain Sulu."_

"Sulu here."

"_There isn't enough artificial blood for everybody. We didn't expect to use so much to replace the patients' blood."_

"How long to make more?"

"_Too long. Captain, you're going to have to ask for blood donors."_

"Blood donors?"

"_I know. It's a barbaric practice: you take blood out of one person's body and put it into another as long as the blood types are compatible. It's a painless procedure and it's the best way to save the last six lives—Chekov, Chapel, Tiefen, Ford, Azleya and Saavik. We'll need at least seventy volunteers, each one donating a pint of blood. The nurses are standing by in Sick Bay and we already have the names with the appropriate blood types. We have to start right away."_

Sulu had heard about this kind of thing. It was rare for any modern Federation doctor to require actual blood donations from people. He could remember McCoy getting a blood donation from Spock to save Ambassador Sarek's life during the Babel conference concerning Coridan's admission into the Federation. He also remembered it was a standard practice in the 20th century which Dr. McCoy hyperbolically called a dark age of medicine.

"_Captain? Time is critical. The more blood we get now, the less we'll need later. The nurses can do ten at a time."_

The captain pressed another button in the comm. panel. A bosun's whistle sounded throughout the starship. "Now hear this. This is the captain speaking. We need blood donors to help save the lives on the Majestic. We need seventy volunteers. Dr. Altos assures me it will be painless. I am volunteering. All volunteers report to Sick Bay on the double. That is all." Releasing the control button, Sulu got up to leave his quarters.

By the time Sulu arrived, there was already a line extending out of the open door to Sick Bay. He saw the crewman who had confronted him with a petition against the rescue operation.

"Good to see you, crewman."

He nodded back. "Sir."

**USS Majestic**

Chekov, Chapel, Tiefen and Ford watched as the engineer Azleya was taken by a transporter beam. They were intensely aware of the sound of the force field keeping the bloodworms at bay. It was sounding more and more unstable every moment, the notes of its sound fluctuating uncertainly.

"All right," said Dr. Chapel. "There's not enough time left. Take off your suits." Once she was satisfied that the others were following her orders, she added, "I'll go first. Dr. Altos will need help to make this fast while the nurses are busy taking the blood donations." She turned to Nurse Tiefen. "I have confidence in you. So far you've done well and have made no mistake. I will put a commendation in your log."

"Thank you, Doctor."

While helping each other to take off the environment suits, Colton Ford said, "Peter, they will need you on the Excelsior. I'll go last."

"Colt, you're going after Dr. Chapel."

"Peter, I know how to do this. I watched you. The whole process is easy enough to—"

"Colton, please let me do my job."

"I have a job to do. I'm security. I'm supposed to take the risk of being last."

"I hate it when you get like this."

A transporter beam took away Christine Chapel.

"_Majestic, start the next one."_

"Can you take two at once?" asked Tiefen.

There was a pause before the answer came through. _"Yes."_

The nurse turned to Chekov. "Sir, will you order Ford to go now?"

"Actually, I'll go last."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm the only one here who knows how to monitor the process. If anything goes wrong, I'm the only one who knows what to do. You and Ford have to go next."

Ford shook his head and hand in negation. "They'll monitor me from the bridge. I'm security. It's my responsibility to go last."

"I'm the ranking officer," said Chekov. "It's _my_ responsibility."

Tiefen now looked frustrated and angry. "To hell with this." He quickly pressed a hypospray onto Ford's arm, beginning the sedation process. A flicker of regret crossed Tiefen's face at Ford's expression of betrayal. The nurse hurriedly and gently laid him on a cot and then, without warning, Tiefen whirled to Chekov and a soft hiss signaled the hypospray's action on the Russian's arm.

"There! Argument over."

Chekov looked about to argue anyway but a wave of dizziness took him. The nurse hurriedly half-carried the now stumbling commander to the second cot.

Ford was struggling against the sedation. "Damn you, Pete. That's not fair!"

"Shut up and let me win an argument for once," retorted Tiefen who was already applying sensor monitors onto Chekov. "We don't have time for this."

The point was reinforced when the sound of the force field dipped abruptly and the field flickered.

Tiefen activated another hypospray, filling Chekov with enzyme-suppressants. Immediately, he went back to Ford. "All right, sweetie. You're always the strong one. Today is my turn, okay?" He touched Ford's cheek tenderly. Impulsively, he bent to kiss Ford quickly on the lips. "I love you."

Just before Ford surrendered to the sedation, he whispered, "I love you too."

Tiefen noticed that Chekov was watching with respect in his eyes. "Very decisive, Mr. Tiefen. You're officer material. Here." Chekov unclipped his phaser pistol and held it toward the nurse. When Tiefen took it after injecting Ford with suppressants, the commander lost consciousness.

Tiefen tossed the phaser onto the deck beside Ford's cot. When the display panel indicated that Chekov was ready, he said, "Excelsior, here comes one." With that, he pressed a button in a control panel and the commander vanished into the transporter effect.

Now alone with Ford, he gently touched the security officer's cheek again and kissed him on the forehead. "See you later, honey," he whispered.

Another transporter beam took Ford away to the Excelsior's safety. Tiefen watched as the last motes of light faded. Behind him, the sound of the force field sputtered again. The wall of red wetness pulsed on the erratically glittering force field. He hurried to lie down on a cot and injected himself with enzyme suppressants.

**USS Excelsior**

Sulu ran out of the turbolift onto the bridge. "Report!"

"The force field on the Majestic has failed," calmly reported Ensign Tuvok.

The captain bit his lip as he looked at the Majestic adrift in the main viewscreen. "Who's still over there?"

"Commander Chekov and Lieutenant Ford have beamed over. Nurse Tiefen is the last." Tuvok glanced to his science console display for confirmation. "He has injected himself. He will have ninety seconds before we can beam him out."

"_Lieutenant Tiefen to Excelsior."_

"Go ahead, Tiefen," Sulu said.

"_The force field's down. The bloodworms are coming through. I can see them—I can hear them."_

The Excelsior bridge crew could hear the bloodworms, too—a crackling and wet slobbery noise.

"_I'm not sedating myself. I need to stay alert. I can feel the effects of the injections. It's uncomfortable but I can handle it. It's gonna be a close one."_

Sulu watched the Majestic drift across the wall of red fire filling half the visible universe on the main viewscreen. He mentally urged the Miranda-class starship to help keep Tiefen safe for a bit longer.

"_God, they sound awful. They're coming toward the cot."_ There was a sound of a phaser firing. The sound of Tiefen crawling out of his cot and away from the bloodworms came over the comm. system.

Tiefen's phaser fired again. Then the distinctive sound of bloodworms dominated the ship-to-ship communication line again.

"Doctors!" called out Sulu. "Beam him out!"

"_Not yet, Captain. He's still carrying live plasmacites."_

"_Colton, I'm sorry. I thought I had more time…. Oh, God! They're coming! Forgive me!"_

Another phaser shot. Then silence except for the liquid crackling of bloodworms.

Sulu opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a scream. A phaser shot abruptly cut out the scream.

The captain lowered his eyes. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to say anything nor did he want to exist. He felt very alone. The bridge was full of a wet ugly noise.

Janice Rand's voice was gentle. "Captain?"

"Shut the damn thing off!"

Silence. Blessed silence.

-/\-

Sulu had his head in his hands.

He raised his head when the door to the conference room opened. Sulu quickly sat up and schooled his face. Ensign Tuvok came in, followed by Jefferson and Saavik. Gabler came in, holding a compad and talking with Dr. Chapel and Lt. Akaar. Gabler handed the compad to Sulu when he passed his chair. Commander Chekov was scowling and glaring at Jefferson when he came in.

When everyone was settled at the conference table, Sulu said, "We have solved one part of the plasmacite problem by extracting all the people from an infected environment we could. We still need to solve the problem of the Regulan bloodworms." The captain was relieved when he heard his voice not reflecting his emotions about losing Nurse Tiefen. He looked down at the compad. "I see we have a few suggestions for solving the problem. First one: Destroy the Majestic itself."

Tuvok said, "That would be ill-advised. The plasmacites are not destroyed by phaser fire nor are they satiated by feeding. Destroying the ship would merely release the bloodworms from their current environment. Furthermore, as discussed before, the explosion would trigger a feeding frenzy and then a feeding frenzy in the corona of the red giant star. I do not need to remind you what would happen when the star has a stellar event such as a supernova."

The gathered people nodded grimly. It might take billions of years for that to happen but when it happens, the force of the star's explosion would send the bloodworms hurtling outward. They would ride the expanding shockwave heading out in all directions. Wherever they are captured by a star's or planet's gravitational field, they could infect. If the planet happened to be inhabited, the inhabitants would die. If a ship passed through the shockwave or the infected environment, the ship's crew would be infected as well as bringing the bloodworms to other worlds much faster. From there, an entire galaxy would be infected. That was saying if a ship, sent by the Vorlons for example, did not pass through this star system first. The chance of that occurring increases if they destroyed the Majestic. The starship's explosion could plausibly attract the Vorlons' attention and cause an investigation by them, considering how close they were to Vorlon space. To make matters worse, Vorlon ships seemed to be biological so it was conceivable that the bloodworms could infect and kill bioships as well as the Vorlons themselves.

"What about tossing the ship down into the star?" wondered Chapel.

Tuvok arched an eyebrow. "There would still be the problem of the star getting infected because the heat and pressure of the corona would destroy the Majestic before it gets inside the star."

"That's what I don't understand. How could bloodworms survive a corona and spawn there?"

"It would appear that they were designed that way. They could survive the heat and vacuum, and they breed rapidly. So each time a sufficiently hot flare destroys some of the plasmacites, they are replaced by new bloodworms."

"Foolhardy," whispered Chapel wonderingly and uneasily.

Sulu said, "That suggestion is similar to another one here: tractor the ship and throw it down into a black hole."

Saavik took it upon herself to respond to the suggestion. "A risky endeavor. Risky not only to ourselves but also to the galaxy at large. We have no guarantee whether the bloodworms would remain inside the Majestic for the duration of the trip, not to mention the time needed for us to search for a black hole."

"What about having meat tanks as bait or creating bloodworm pheromones to keep them following us to the black hole?" Gabler said.

"There would still be the risk of bloodworms getting loose."

"What about using the transporters to take as many bloodworms as possible and beam them out to space at maximum dispersal?"

"The bloodworms breed at a high rate. We cannot guarantee getting all of them. We would, essentially, be racing against both time and nature."

Dr. Chapel said, "That proves the bloodworms were mutated in some way to inhibit their natural course of development." She banged a fist on the table in frustration and anger. "A real doomsday weapon. Whoever did this was smart."

Sulu nodded. "Saavik's right. We don't know when the Vorlons would come a-calling and I don't want to be here if they come."

Akaar scowled. "We shouldn't have done the rescue operation. We should have solved this problem long ago."

"Mr. Akaar," warned Sulu, "what's done is done."

The Capellan almost growled, and glared at Jefferson and Saavik pointedly. His blond queue, if it could, would bristle. "They did this. One of my men _died_ because of them. They should be telling us all about the bloodworms."

"How about it?" agreed Chekov. "Suppose you can provide some…useful insights to this problem?"

Jefferson and Saavik glanced at each other. The former captain of the Majestic looked grim while Saavik's half-Romulan nature caused her to look apologetic. She said, "The bloodworm is a specifically-designed mutation of the earlier Regulan bloodworm, created as a doomsday weapon. We believe—"

Jefferson spoke up, deliberately interrupting. "Do not say another word, Lieutenant Saavik."

Sulu rubbed the bridge of her nose between his thumb and forefinger. Jefferson's stonewalling was becoming tiresome. "Mr. Jefferson—" Jefferson's lips thinned at Sulu's omission of his title. "—we do not have time for this. The Vorlons could come at any moment and we must know what's going on. Please continue, Lieutenant Saavik."

The half-Vulcan and half-Romulan lieutenant nodded her acceptance, causing Jefferson to grimace in disapproval. "We believe that a race from the planet M-113 called the Maizlish wanted a doomsday weapon because they were losing a war and they wished to deny the victors access to the prize they fought so hard to win on their world. Therefore, they hired a Vulcan scientist—"

Chekov gaped with wide eyes. "A Vulcan?!"

Even Tuvok held a hint of surprise and distaste in his face.

"Yes, a Vulcan, distasteful as it may be. Specifically, T'Uerell."

Sulu leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table anxiously. "_The_ T'Uerell? The same T'Uerell as in the Romulan War?"

Chapel and Chekov shifted uncomfortably in their seat. They remembered the encounter that the Enterprise had with the infamous Vulcan scientist in the last year of Kirk's first five-year mission.

"Indeed," confirmed Saavik. "That particular information has been classified at the highest levels in Starfleet. T'Uerell's lab was on Regulus IV and the bloodworms somehow escaped her control."

"A very expensive mistake," breathed Chapel. "…if it was a mistake."

Jefferson spoke up then. "Starfleet Command was concerned about the bloodworm infection as a possible military threat. Our mandate was to investigate the possible military use of the bloodworms and what defenses might be effective against them."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow while Sulu and Chekov exchanged a glance, and Akaar scoffed. "Does that mandate say you have to do that _here_, of all places?" asked Akaar incredulously. "If the Vorlons caught you, we'd all be in it!"

Sulu frowned, watching Jefferson with disgust. "The Vorlons are exactly why you're here, aren't you?"

The accusation hung in the air. Unhappiness crept through Saavik's face.

"This is on a need-to-know basis," said Jefferson coolly.

"I believe we're beyond that, Mr. Jefferson. That need-to-know basis cost you a ship and us a good man. Therefore we definitely have a need to know."

"Indeed," agreed Saavik, earning a scowl from Jefferson. "Our mission's mandate required us to find a way to control the bloodworms…so we could use them as a weapon."

A knot formed in Sulu's stomach. He had subconsciously suspected it but he shied away from that. It challenged everything he believed about Starfleet and the Federation. Now he felt sick.

"Captain," Jefferson spoke candidly, "can you imagine what would happen if the Vorlon Empire went to war with the Federation?"

Chekov said, "Judging by the Shadows, by what Vorlon technology we could see and by the local legends of the Vorlons, it'd be a very difficult war."

Jefferson slammed an open hand on the tabletop. "We'd lose the war!" He looked at the faces around the triangular table. "The Shadows were destroyed in the last galactic war in this universe, but they still have a few ships. Look at the difficulties we've had with them! Captain Sulu, you yourself experienced firsthand a Shadow bioship. The Vorlons have entire fleets of bioships that are on par with the Shadows and they still have an entire empire of resources to draw upon!" He leaned forward ominously. "The Vorlons are vipers. They cannot be trusted."

Sulu raised an eyebrow. He noted Chekov's grim expression and turned back to Jefferson. "Go on."

"The Vorlons have manipulated galactic affairs for centuries, if not thousands of years. It's likely they have been manipulating the local races for thousands of years because we've discovered genetic markers in the local races that indicate a sector-wide past effort in genetic engineering. They might be the reason why this universe's Humanity has a large minority of telepaths while our own Humanity boasts only a few telepaths. Tell me, what did people see at Babylon 5 when Kosh revealed himself?"

"An angel," replied Chapel without thinking.

"To be precise," chimed in Tuvok, "a being of light that _appeared_ to be an angel or a winged deity."

"And what did Admiral Kirk and Spock see?" prompted Jefferson.

"They saw…an energy being," said Chekov.

Sulu nodded. "By their description, Kosh looked like an Organian in its true form. An Organian with energy tendrils that were like tentacles. For a moment, Spock thought he saw an ancient Vulcan god, while Kirk also thought he saw an angel…only for a moment."

"Exactly." Jefferson seemed to feel vindicated. "They are taking advantage of local belief systems. Just like the energy being at Shakaree."

Tuvok cocked his head in thought. "That is a flawed comparison, Captain Jefferson. The Shakaree being claimed to be the creator god that is featured in the mythology of many worlds, including Earth, Vulcan, Andoria, and Tellar. The being clearly intended harm for us. The Vorlons, so far, do not show that intention."

"The operative words are 'so far,' Ensign. Do any of you know the Vorlons? Does anyone here know them? I mean, really know them? Or really trust them?"

There was no answer from any of the Excelsior crewmembers. Jefferson nodded. "See? The Vorlons are supposed to be Lords of Order while the Shadows are supposed to be Lords of Chaos, and they're supposed to have fought wars with each other many times. Many worlds and races got stuck in the middle and many of them went extinct." He spread his arms as if to indicate the Excelsior, and by extension, the Federation. "We are outsiders, interlopers. Lords of Order do not like anything that could disrupt their beloved order. Just by being here, we are disrupting their order. They will move to correct the situation. We must prevent that from happening."

Sulu frowned. "That is the goal of your mission here, isn't it?"

Jefferson's answer was intense. "Captain Sulu, we are unprepared to face hostile fleets of powerful bioships. Tensions with the Romulan Empire are running high. We have a de facto war with the Centauri Republic, the Earth Alliance and the Shadows. We just suffered an incursion by a new race called the Borg. We simply cannot afford a war with the Vorlon Empire. It would be far too expensive for all of us in terms of lives, ships and resources. Not just the Federation but also all of our allies. We want to solve the problem of the Vorlon Empire. You want to solve the problem of the Majestic? We could send the Majestic into Vorlon space."

"And unleash the bloodworms on the Vorlons?" gasped Dr. Chapel. "You must be mad!"

"Actually," Saavik interjected, "that's part of our orders. We are to aim the Majestic as a weapon at the Vorlon worlds."

"Orders??" Gabler could not believe what he was hearing.

"Indeed. The orders come from…a secret section of Starfleet Security."

Sulu was silent for a long time, digesting the information Jefferson and Saavik had just revealed. He studied the space between his arms on the tabletop. By tacitly allowing the orders to come through and by allowing the Majestic to come through the inter-universal rift with its deadly cargo, Starfleet Command morally implicated itself. After a while, he looked up at Christine Chapel, Pavel Chekov and Leonard James Akaar. He could see disgust warring with rage on Akaar's face. This information was offending his Capellan sense of honor. "Lieutenant Akaar. Please escort Captain Jefferson and Lieutenant Saavik to their quarters. See that everyone from the Majestic are restricted to their quarters."

Akaar grunted an assent. "Come with me, _sirs_." The tone in the last word was clearly not meant to be respectful.

To no one in particular, Sulu wondered, "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

-/\-

Sitting in his command chair on the bridge, Hikaru Sulu felt repelled by the militarism of the Majestic's mission. The reasons used by Captain Jefferson were compelling but the mission clashed with the Federation's ideals and with Starfleet's mission to preserve all life and to exhaust all options before taking military actions. This mission risked starting a war between the Federation and the Vorlon Empire, never mind its chances of success. As Jefferson pointed out, such a war would be disastrous for the Federation.

Preemptive strikes punished people not for what they have done or were doing but for what they might have done or could do. That was a very nebulous reasoning, often used in the Terror Wars of the 21st century. It was a policy that had the potential to lead states down dark paths.

He felt sick at the idea that the Federation would adopt such a policy, even if unofficially.

The navigation officer, Lieutenant Angelo Tiffe, turned around in his chair. "Captain, I think I found a black hole."

"Where?"

Angelo obliged by putting up a starchart on the main viewscreen. A small crosshair blinked in an area that was outside the territories of the Earth Alliance and the Centauri Republic. "It's near Omega Fornacis. In our universe, it'd be in the Tiburonian Sector."

Sulu recognized the black hole's location. The Enterprise encountered it on the way to Starbase 9 and it flung the starship to 1969 Earth.

Chekov, like Sulu, realized that there was a problem with the black hole. "That's on the other side of Centauri space, Mr. Tiffe. Isn't there any other black hole that's, you know, closer?"

Tiffe nervously looked down at his navigation console. "It'd take days, if not weeks, for us to find black holes in this universe even if we use our own Federation starcharts to find counterparts. I did find one that's closer but it's…in Vorlon space."

That was unacceptable. Sulu understood why the navigator did not bring that to his attention earlier. It ran the risk of encountering Vorlons and of having the Excelsior accidentally carrying out the Majestic's mission. By all reports, any ship that entered Vorlon space disappeared. The captain was not fond of the idea of himself and his crew disappearing forever. "If we choose the Fornax black star, we'd have to tow the Majestic behind us at high warp. It will be a long time before we reach it." Sulu shook his head, rejecting the proposal. "The bloodworms could have the chance to escape the ship and get loose in the galaxy."

At the right side of the bridge, Akaar swung around in his chair at the tactical station. "Why not just toss the ship into that red star?"

Chekov looked sharply at the Capellan. "Have you been listening, Mr. Akaar? The ship would be destroyed before plunging into the star itself. The bloodworms would then infect the entire corona. We're trying to solve the problem, not create a new red-giant-sized problem."

"We'd be buying time," Akaar insisted. "It'd take billennia before the star goes nova. We'd have all that time to find solutions for the bloodworm problem."

"A red-giant-sized problem," Sulu argued, using Chekov's words. "This star seems to be extremely old. It might not even take millennia for it to go nova. When it does, the problem would spread throughout this sector, infecting worlds and ships. The end of carbon-based life."

Akaar looked peeved and frustrated. "What about asking the race that made the bloodworms a weapon? Saavik called them the Maizlish. They might know something about cleaning this up."

"Ms. Rand?"

Janice Rand turned to her station and checked the files. For a while, she refined the search parameters and double-checked. "Captain, the library computer says the Maizlish are extinct. Their homeworld was M-113. Sir, that's where we found that salt vampire."

Now Sulu knew why the planet's name seemed familiar. It was a dead world full of ruins. Since there were no bloodworms on the planet, the inhabitants must have been killed off without unleashing that terrible weapon. "So there's that. It's all up to us."

"Sir," Rand said hesitantly, "if we want to reach that black hole as fast as possible, why don't we use hyperspace? It would be a shorter trip than at normal warp."

"Well, Ms. Azleya?" Sulu put the question to the Denobulan woman stationed at the engineering console.

Terim Azleya frowned as she thought about the suggestion. "We could try. But…the Majestic has no power so it doesn't have its structural integrity field. The gravimetric shears in hyperspace could tear the ship apart. That will be guaranteed if we go at hyperwarp. The bloodworms could adapt to the gases and gravity currents of hyperspace…"

"Making it one vast spawning field for the bloodworms," finished Sulu. He shook his head at the challenges. "What a mess we've gotten ourselves into."

"Captain," called Ensign Tuvok from his science station. "I am detecting an energy surge and a subspace distortion." The Vulcan looked up, betraying nothing of his emotions. "It is a jumppoint forming."

"Visual!" ordered Sulu.

The main viewscreen's image of the red giant star and the adrift Majestic switched to an image of an empty star field. A massive blue jumppoint bloomed open. A small star seemed to flash in the darkness of its depth, signaling the approach of a vessel.

A Vorlon mothership came out of the jumppoint, flanked by two smaller cruisers and a small swarm of fighters.

Sulu stood up from his command chair, staring at the image with wide eyes. The Vorlons!

The four appendages on the largest vessel seemed to be reaching out for them all. Chekov grasped the railing around the bridge's central pit.

Janice Rand held her earpiece deep in her ear. "Captain! The Vorlons are demanding we leave this area or surrender."

"Stall 'em! Explain we're on a rescue mission!"

The Vorlon ships began to take positions around both the Excelsior and the Majestic, with the mothership facing the Excelsior squarely.

"Tuvok! Tractor beam! Take hold of the Majestic!" Sulu turned to the helmsman, Kruton Lojur. "Lieutenant Commander, open a jumppoint!"

"Sir—" Tuvok protested in surprise.

Rand interrupted, "Sir, they're saying unless we leave in five minutes, we must surrender or they'll open fire!"

"Shields! Arm phasers!" Sulu pointed at Tuvok. "Tractor beam, now!"

On the main viewscreen, they could see the Vorlon ships beginning to discharge green energy from the end-points of their appendages to create a ball of energy in the space between them.

The blue shimmering light of a tractor beam reached out from the Excelsior to latch onto the Majestic. The lights on the Excelsior's bridge began to dim as the starship built up the power needed to open a hyperspace window.

"Azleya, work with Engineering! Do everything you can to give us power without costing us the shields, tractor beam or phasers. If you absolutely must, take power from life support and phasers."

The lights on the starship dimmed further until emergency lighting activated. Soon, a tiny pinpoint tear in the fabric of space-time appeared. Some of the red gases of hyperspace spilled out as the hole expanded. The nearby Vorlon fighters retreated to a safe distance from the forming hyperspace window, still energizing their weapons.

As soon as the window was large enough, the Excelsior turned sideway away from the Vorlon mothership, drawing the Majestic close behind itself, and fled into the window. The window instantly shrunk, pulling the red gases into itself, and faded into nothing.

"All stop," ordered Sulu as soon as they were in hyperspace. The starship rumbled and lurched in the hyperspace turbulences.

"Reading all stop," confirmed Lojur.

"Captain," said Chekov, "if ve stay here, the Vorlons will come in. Ve're not buying much time."

"I don't intend to stay here. Ensign Tuvok, find the heaviest gravity field. It should be right next to us. Azleya, extend shields around the Majestic. Do whatever you can to protect it from the gravity shears."

"What are you trying to do?" Chekov wanted to know.

Before Sulu could answer, Tuvok reported, "There is a very large and powerful gravity field on the portside."

"Take us in."

Lojur and Tiffe looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Mr. Lojur, bring us to the center of that field. Ms. Azleya, I'm relying on you to keep the Majestic tractored and in one piece."

"Yes, sir."

The turbulence increased as the starship turned into the gravity field. Quickly, the turbulence got so bad that the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up. This forced everyone put on their seat belts and harnesses. Commander Chekov took an empty seat and did likewise just in time as the deck jumped with a gravity impact.

"Sir," said Azleya, "I'm reading hull stresses on the Majestic. Any deeper into the gravity field, we could be looking at hull breaches there."

She did not have to spell out what would happen if the Majestic's hull breached. Sulu nodded as he gripped his chair arms against the increasingly violent turbulence. He said, "I think this is far enough. Lojur, all stop. Increase power to the shields."

"Reading all stop. Shields at maximum."

"Open a jumppoint."

"Sir?" This time, Lojur looked at the captain as if he doubted his sanity. "The Vorlons are still there."

Tiffe added, "According to my calculations and readings, we're going to come out inside the red-giant star." He was also staring at Sulu as if to question the captain's sanity.

Sulu's head snapped back against his seat's headrest as his ship shook around. He wondered if he would get whiplash for his troubles. "That's the point. The moment the jumppoint is large enough, throw the Majestic through it."

Akaar realized what Sulu was proposing. "If we can't throw the ship at the sun for risk of infecting its corona, why not throw it _inside_ the sun?"

"Exactly. Let's get on to it before the Vorlons find us in hyperspace. I hear that combat is not safe here."

Once more, Lojur caused the lights to dim again as he formed a new hyperspace window. At the same time, Tuvok used the tractor beam to move the Majestic closer to the forming jumppoint. This time, lightning bolts seemed to arc all over the jumppoint. Immediately, extremely white-hot energized plasma and glowing blue solid helium fragments began to spill through the jumppoint. There were heavy lustrous veins of glowing gray and silvery metal in the fragments. Mixed in among the fragments were broken dark reflective debris. Many of them impacted the Excelsior's extended shields.

"Fascinating," commented Tuvok as he calmly held onto his console for support. "What we are seeing are pieces of a star's outer core. Plasma, helium, iron, nickel, silicon and some neutronium."

"It may be fascinating, but we're losing shield strength!" retorted Azleya.

"Toss the Majestic now before there's too much sun!" Sulu watched the scene anxiously.

As the shields glowed brightly under the solar assault, the tractor beam reversed polarity, becoming a repulsor beam. The Majestic shot away from the Excelsior into the window. Some of the solar fragments hit the Miranda-class ship, tearing off a warp nacelle. Her hull bent under the pressure of the impacts and the gravity turbulence. The whole ship glowed from the intense heat. The window closed the instant the Majestic was through it. But not before the liquid plasma spill became as water rushing from an open faucet.

The strength of the gravity turbulence jumped up. Lojur and Tiffe struggled together to keep the Excelsior stable.

"Get us out of here!"

Lojur executed Sulu's order almost before the captain was finished. The starship pivoted on its axis, aiming its bow back the way it came, and flew forth on impulse power, shields flaring against the spreading plasma and core fragments.

Tuvok said, "Hyperspace in this area is…" He faintly frowned. "…having a seizure for lack of a better description. It appears that our action has affected the star."

-/\-

The Vorlon flotilla had powered down their weapons. The Vorlons were scanning for the two escaped Federation starships when they noticed that there was something wrong with the red giant star.

The red star's surface seemed to convulse, pulsate and boil. The boiling action became massive and it began to throw off helium flashes. Flare activity increased exponentially.

The Vorlon commander decided it was time to leave the area. The massive mothership turned as it opened a jumppoint. Its companions, the two light cruisers and the single squadron of fighters hurried their way into the orange-yellow jumppoint, followed by the mothership. The jumppoint closed behind the Vorlons, leaving the star alone with its fate.

The red giant star continued to violently throb and boil. Soon, each of the star's magnetic poles shot hot neutrino jets. They became large twin explosions as the star shed its outer layers. For the duration of a brief moment, the star's temperature quickly rose from red-hot to white-hot and beyond until it seemed to shine mostly with ultraviolet and x-ray light. This caused the star to become almost transparent as it shrunk for the briefest of moments, collapsing. The collapse instantly reversed into a brilliant explosion, plowing into the already expelled cooler gases, creating a light show that would drown out all of the stars in the sector.

While all this was happening, hyperspace seized and convulsed in tandem with the star until there was a sector-wide hurricane-like storm that made hyperspace travel too hazardous for ships of any race that was not as advanced as the Middle-born Races. Even First One ships would still struggle through the hyperspace gale-force storm.

**Zwiest System**

The local jumpgate activated and opened a vortex. The Excelsior came rushing out of it, tumbling end over end.

As the lights came back to full strength, Sulu groaned from the pain of being thrashed around in his seat harness. "Everyone all right?"

Everyone, except for Tuvok, groaned in response. Nevertheless, even Tuvok was rubbing sore spots.

"We have escaped the shockwaves and storms in hyperspace." Tuvok studied his science readings for a moment before continuing, "It would appear that the red giant star has gone nova."

"How is that possible?" wondered Chekov.

"It is likely that the Majestic's antimatter tanks, its likely warp core breach, and the star material spilling into hyperspace all conspired to achieve this result."

"We've murdered a star to save the galaxy from the bloodworms," breathed Chapel.

"What happened to the Vorlon fleet?" asked Sulu with concern. If Vorlons died because of their action, there would likely be hell to pay.

"Unknown."

Beeps sounded from the science and helm stations. "Sir, the jumpgate," said Lojur.

"Put it onscreen."

Instantly, they could tell that the gate was feeling the effects of the supernova in hyperspace. Electricity arced all over the four struts of the Centauri-built jumpgate until they became veritable lightning bolts. It was as if the jumpgate had become a giant Tesla coil. Several of the panels bent and tore away until the electric storm faded away.

Tuvok arched an eyebrow with interest in this latest phenomenon. "The jumpgate can no longer be utilized. Repairs will be required. However, the gate may cease to be useful when the supernova effects reach this system several years in the future." The Vulcan imperceptibly frowned. "I failed to realize this could happen."

Sulu smiled at Tuvok's self-chastisement. "Don't worry, we won't report you to the Vulcan Perfectionists' Association."

Tuvok glanced at Sulu archly with both eyebrows raised. "With all due respect, Captain, were there such an entity, it need only be called the Vulcan Association to avoid redundancy."

Sulu stared, dumbfounded. He turned to Chekov. "I'll admit it: That last line got to me."


	35. Serpent in the Garden

_The Federation News Service showed white-haired, white-whiskered Ra'ghoratreii, the Efrosian President of the Federation, standing at a podium. The Federation Great Seal acted as the background. Spock could only watch with growing surprise._

"This scandal is a sad event for us all. We have been given a mandate by the peoples of the Federation to lead the Council through times both good and bad. The scandal indicates a failure to carry out that mandate. The continuation of this shameful chapter in Federation history would be a betrayal of the spirit of the Federation Charter. We need concord among the citizens of the Federation."_ Ra'ghor took his spectacles off as he paused in his speech. _"That is why, as of twenty minutes ago, I have accepted the resignation of St. John Talbot from the office of Vice-President of the United Federation of Planets."

_A murmur sounded off-screen as reporters and spectator reacted to this announcement._

"As per the Federation Charter, I will submit the nomination of Fleet Admiral William Toddman to the Federation Council as a replacement for St. John Talbot. To respect the spirit of the Federation Charter, Admiral Toddman will resign his commission in the Federation Starfleet. Thank you for your support, your patience and your understanding. That is all."

_The viewscreen deactivated just as Ra'ghor turned to leave the press conference room. Spock was reeling from the revelations._

"_You will agree, Spock," said Praetor Ael Saren Charvanek, smiling ferally, "that we now need each other just as our two worlds need each other in reunion."_

_**Starfleet Headquarters**_

_**San Francisco, Earth**_

_Captain Bruce Finnegan said, "Say, Jim, now that ol' Bill is gonna be Vice-President, who's gonna be C-n-C?"_

_Chief of Starfleet Operations James Kirk shrugged. "I don't know. That's up to the Federation Council."_

"_Ok, Jim, I better get to the taxi service for your boy."_

_Once Finnegan was gone, Kirk returned to his work. But he paused for a long time to think. Whoever would be Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet would need to deal with the crises facing the Federation in tandem with the Palais._

_He hoped that it would be easier from now on._

_- - -_

_As the Excelsior's shields glowed brightly under the solar assault, the tractor beam reversed polarity, becoming a repulsor beam. The Majestic shot away from the Excelsior into the hyperspace window. Some of the stellar core fragments hit the Miranda-class ship, tearing off a warp nacelle. Her hull bent under the pressure of the impacts and the gravity turbulence. The whole ship glowed from the intense heat. The window closed the instant the Majestic was through it. But not before the liquid plasma spill became as water rushing from an open faucet._

_The strength of the gravity turbulence jumped up. Lojur and Tiffe struggled together to keep the Excelsior stable._

"_Get us out of here!"_

_Lojur executed Sulu's order almost before the captain was finished. The starship pivoted on its axis, aiming its bow back the way it came, and flew forth on impulse power, shields flaring against the spreading plasma and core fragments._

_Tuvok said, "Hyperspace in this area is…" He faintly frowned. "…having a seizure for lack of a better description. It appears that our action has affected the star."_

_- - -_

_A Vorlon flotilla powered down the green energy crosshairs between the ships' arms. The Vorlons were scanning for two escaped Federation starships when they noticed that there was something wrong with the red giant star nearby._

_The red star's surface seemed to convulse, pulsate and boil. The boiling action became massive and it began to throw off helium flashes. Flare activity increased exponentially._

_The Vorlon commander decided it was time to leave the area. The massive mothership turned as it opened a jumppoint. Its companions, two light cruisers and the single squadron of fighters hurried into the orange-yellow jumppoint, followed by the mothership. The jumppoint closed behind the Vorlons, leaving the star alone with its fate._

_The red giant star continued to violently throb and boil. Soon, each of the star's magnetic poles shot hot neutrino jets. They became large twin explosions as the star shed its outer layers. For the duration of a brief moment, the star's temperature quickly rose from red-hot to white-hot and beyond until it seemed to shine mostly with ultraviolet and x-ray light. This caused the star to become almost transparent as it shrunk for the briefest of moments, collapsing. The collapse instantly reversed into a brilliant explosion, plowing into the already expelled cooler gases, creating a light show that would drown out all of the stars in the sector._

_The star had gone supernova._

AND NOW THE CONTINUATION OF SHADOWS AND DUST…

**Federation News Service**

A middle-aged looking man sat at a desk in front of a window that showed the night lights of San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

"Greetings. I am Tim Pennington of the Federation News Service. In the hundred and thirty-two years since the founding of the Federation, we have explored much of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants of the galaxy, establishing outposts, colonies, and gaining new members for the Federation Council. In all that time, we've discovered some of the wonders and terrors of the galaxy. None of these discoveries have made a greater impact on us than the rift formed at Starbase 10. Located near the Romulan Neutral Zone, the Quantum Rift, as it is sometimes called, has been a source of controversy as well as opportunities for new technologies and contacts, such as with the Centauri Republic, the Earth Alliance and the Minbari Federation."

Tim turned to face another camera, now looking worried. "It is not without its problems."

Behind him, the window became a huge map of a galactic region. Territories were marked out in colors. The map was centered on the cross-hairs labeled 'Quantum Rift' which was in between the Ventuki Conglomerate and the Centauri Republic. In another area of the map, a star blinked between the purple space of the Centauri Republic and the grey space of the Vorlon Empire, near the blue territory of the Minbari Federation.

"For example, the other universe accessible through the Quantum Rift may have influenced Spock of Vulcan to defect to the Romulan Empire. He has been indicted by Starfleet Command and the Federation Judicial Council in absentia. Furthermore, we have received reports of a star going supernova on the border of the Vorlon Empire. While supernovae are a natural phenomenon, this one is not. Insiders in the Palais de la Concorde informed the Federation News Service that Starfleet may be involved in creating this supernova."

The background behind Tim changed to show an image of Babylon 5. "Kosh, the Vorlon Ambassador at Babylon 5, has refused to be contacted. However, we were able to contact Londo Mollari, Ambassador for the Centauri Republic on the space station Babylon 5."

Tim and Babylon 5 vanished to be replaced by a view of Londo Mollari sitting in his quarters. The Centauri ambassador looked angry. "This is exactly the kind of behavior that endangers the very purpose of Babylon 5. We are supposed to find peaceful solutions to our problems! For your government to send starships to try and provoke the Vorlons like this is incredibly reckless and irresponsible. Ever since you came here, we've had nothing but problems from you. If you really want to nuke your own foot, it's not our problem. Still, to endanger our Republic with your behavior for no reason…."

"What do you mean?" asked an unseen reporter.

"This supernova has damaged our jumpgate at Zwiest. Jumpgates are extremely expensive! Fortunately, our ally, the Earth Alliance is working with the Republic to repair the gate."

"What about reports of your wars with neighboring worlds? Aren't these expensive?"

Londo archly responded, "Our affairs are not yours to discuss. Doesn't your Federation have a Prime Directive? Doesn't that law prohibit your Starfleet to interfere in other cultures?" He shook his head at what he obviously thought to be stupid. "The hypocrisy is amazing. You've helped Mars Colony against the Earth Alliance even though it's not your affair. Remember, the Centauri Republic has a mutual defense treaty with the Earth government."

Tim Pennington and the window overlooking the San Francisco Bay were back. "Ambassador Mollari mentioned our interference with the Earth Alliance's Mars Colony. Unlike our Confederated Martian Colonies, the EA's Mars Colony is officially under direct Earth rule and is undergoing its own version of the Martian Revolution. Captain Hikaru Sulu of the starship Excelsior installed Federation orbital defense satellites around that colony in defiance of the government and military of Earth Alliance President Morgan William Clark."

The anchorman turned back to the first camera.

"Since William Toddman has become the Vice-President of the Federation, the post of Fleet Admiral and Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet has been empty. In the first floor of the Palais de la Concorde in Paris, the Federation Council has convened to discuss who would replace Mr. Toddman as Fleet Admiral."

The view shifted to the Federation Council chamber in the first floor of the Palais in Paris. President Ra'ghor stood at the glass podium at the end of the rectangular council chamber while representatives from the Federation's member worlds sat in rows along the long sides of the chamber.

"As you all know," Ra'ghor said, "Vice-President William Toddman has resigned his commission in Starfleet. Starfleet is in need of a strong hand at the helm as Fleet Admiral and Commander-in-Chief. I hereby nominate for appointment to that position Admiral James Tiberius Kirk."

The councilors stirred and murmured among themselves in surprise.

Tim Pennington came back. "The discussion concerning the position of Fleet Admiral is ongoing. In related news, the Federation Council has not voted for a declaration of war against the Earth Alliance. That, however, may not prevent future skirmishes between EarthForce and Starfleet. The Federation News Service has received reports that the Starfleet blockade of Earth Alliance's Mars Colony continues to prevent EarthForce from reaching the Martian rebels…."

**MarsDome, Mars**

**Sol System, Earth Alliance**

Xavier Montoya, formerly military governor of Mars and now Provisional President of Mars, was being confronted by a beautiful blonde woman in a dress suit.

"An armada at the Asteroid Belt?" inquired Montoya tiredly.

"Composed of Omegas, Hyperions and Novas!" said the woman.

"You think they'll head here, Miss Halloran?"

The woman fumed at the provisional president. "Number One! Don't ever use my name. Number One!"

"What does it matter? We're free. Your organization doesn't have to hide anymore. We don't have to worry too much about EarthForce. The Federation orbital batteries will greet them."

Tessa Halloran bit back an angry retort. The blonde woman took a breath before patiently replying. "The platforms will fire on armed ships. But not unarmed ships. An assassin can still slip through and kill me or you. That is why it's imperative you don't ever use my name!" She looked through the window up at the dome obscuring the Martian sky. "We don't know if the platforms will protect us."

"We'll soon see," said Montoya. He was so tired.

Tessa sighed. "I'm going to put the bases, thunderbolt squadrons and laser sentries on alert. If EarthForce breaks through, MarsGuard will have its first test."

Montoya gave her a look. When Captain Sulu cut Mars off from Clark's forces, the Martian rebels managed to seize all EarthForce assets on the planet and established a planetary military force called MarsGuard. So if EarthForce managed to reach Mars, they'd face the Martian thunderbolts and laser sentries that would strike at them from planetside.

"You know…just in case."

He knew she meant in case the Federation weapon platforms didn't work as advertised.

**Mars space**

**Sol System, Earth Alliance**

Jumppoints tore across the dark heavens of Mars orbit. A large EarthForce fleet came out of the jumppoints. It was an impressive collection of Omega, Nova and Hyperion warships. The fleet slowly divided into three wings of each class as it approached the first few orbital batteries that formed the outer rim of the Starfleet defense grid protecting Mars. The four dozen automated orbital weapon platforms holding the red planet in a protective cocoon were silent, dark and ominous.

One of the nine Omega destroyers took the lead in taking a closer look at the orbital batteries left by Captain Sulu after he forced a halt to Clark's bombing of Mars. The distant sun lit up the name EAS Acheron emblazoned on port side of the Omega, which was flanked by an escort of two Hyperions.

Aboard the Acheron and seated in its command chair, General Fontaine was frowning at the image of the weapon platforms on a large monitor. He said, "Don't look like much, do they?"

"No, sir," said Captain Elizabeth Lochley who was standing ramrod straight with hands clasped at her back. She stared straight ahead at the monitor showing the bulbous white orbital batteries.

Fontaine studied the image. His job was to smash through the defense grid established by Captain Sulu around Mars, go straight for the red planet, and open the way for General Franklin's troop transports waiting in hyperspace. He needed to test the Starfleet weaponry available in the platforms. General Fontaine flicked a switch on an armrest of his command chair, opening a channel. "This is fleet command. Vesta and Juno, launch fighters and assume point."

Starfury and Thunderbolt fighters swarmed out of the mouths of the two named Omega-class destroyers.

Captain Lochley read incoming information on her monitor and reported, "One thousand kilometers to optimum firing range. Pulse cannons standing by, ready to fire. Defense grid armed, ready to fire. Sir, do we load missile tubes?"

Fontaine leaned forward in his chair and steepled his hands in front of his face, still studying the image of the Federation batteries. "No. We'll see how we handle them first."

The stern-looking female captain gave a curt nod and went back to her task of monitoring the fleet's actions.

EAS HYPERION

Captain Ellis Pierce watched as the furies fly out of the mouths of the Vesta and the Juno. The African-descent man put his upper body weight on an elbow on an armrest. Idly, he fingered his graying hair.

"Looks like we're in for it, Lieutenant."

The Hyperion's executive officer, Matthew Gideon, nodded. "Yes, sir. All reports on the Feds indicate incredibly advanced technology and powerful weaponry." The young lieutenant frowned as he remembered the destruction of his previous ship, the EAS Cerberus, which fell to a mysterious black ship. He wondered briefly whether a Federation starship could fight the black ship.

The captain looked up from his command chair at Gideon. He thought he knew what the lieutenant was thinking about. "You worried? Don't be. A show of force is required. If they know we're serious about their interferences, they'd have to talk to us or back off."

Gideon took a moment before saying, "Yes, sir." He knew that Captain Pierce would take his pause as indication of unvoiced doubts.

On a monitor, they could see the starfuries sweeping forward into the field of batteries. They fired their bolter guns at them. Shields effortlessly shrugged off the plasma bolts. Then phasers retaliated, eliminating several of the fighters and causing several more to spiral out of control.

Gideon cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. He was impressed by the very powerful weaponry and technology. He echoed Pierce's earlier statement, "Looks like we're in for it, sir."

EAS ACHERON

Fontaine grunted at the sight of the Federation batteries swatting down the starfuries like flies. He opened the communication channel again. "This is fleet command. All ships, launch fighters."

Many squadrons of fighters swarmed from the Earth warships' mouths and made their runs into the Federation defense grid. General Fontaine looked up at Lochley with a questioning look.

The Acheron's captain knew what the general wanted to know. She took a quick glance at her monitor and said, "We've reached optimum firing range."

The general nodded and gave an order into the still-open channel: "Dreadnought group, advance to broadside range and open fire."

The Nova-class dreadnoughts labored to turn aside to bring the maximum number of their powerful cannons to bear. Once they were perpendicular to the edge of the battery field, they leaned only enough to have all of the cannons on either the topside or the bottom aimed at the weapon platforms while still allowing one side of the bottom or top cannons to make their locks. Novas were a terror in the Dilgar War and their saturation fire was such that they even scored hits in the Earth-Minbari War. The Minbari had learned to respect the Novas to the extent of making their destruction a priority in battles.

Now they would be tested against the military might of the United Federation of Planets, even if the targets were only automated weapon platforms. They chose targets, locked onto them and warned the starfuries in their fields of fire to move out of the way.

They opened fire with their oversized twin plasma cannons and particle beam guns.

The computers in the white bulbous Federation orbital batteries had detected the EarthForce fleet coming out of hyperspace and had been watching it with their subspace sensors. The directives given them was to shoot only armed ships and only if the ships came into the field of batteries as well as if the ships opened fire on them. Just as they did with the starfuries.

Shields on individual automated weapon platforms flared under the Novas' fire. In some, the computers drew more power from their fusion reactors to keep the shields shored up. They detected other ships in the EarthForce fleet advancing upon them with their weapons armed. The vessels, which the Federation computers recognized to be of the Omega- and Hyperion-classes, opened fire. Then, following their directives, the computers struck back.

The Federation orbital batteries let loose a massive barrage of firepower against the EarthForce armada in the form of phasers and photon torpedoes. Immediately, several EarthForce ships were damaged by the phaser beams and bolts.

The wave of photon torpedoes flew at the EarthForce ships whose interceptor grids were firing their own bolts. Some of the torpedoes exploded. Many of the explosions released photonic shockwaves which struck the nearby Earth ships, causing them to visibly shake under the assault. EarthForce did not know that the risk of photonic shockwaves was the reason Starfleet did not generally employ point defense tactics against photon torpedoes.

As the interceptor grids labored to shoot down the incoming torpedoes, they were overwhelmed by the torpedoes' speed, number and maneuverability. Antimatter annihilations scourged a lumbering Nova-class ship. Flames bloomed from its hulls as phasers from other batteries joined in the assault. The Nova returned fire with its plasma cannons, but another phaser assault caused the heavy warship to list as lights flickered onboard.

The EarthForce fleet continued to advance into the Federation defense grid and returned fire at the weapon platforms, but they failed to penetrate the Federation shields.

Lochley had to hold onto a rail as the Acheron rocked under enemy fire. "We're unable to break through their force shields!"

General Fontaine watched as the EAS Pollux opened with its main forward cannons, putting four bursts onto a battery even as it fired a series of photon torpedoes at it. The Pollux's lasers lashed again as explosions billowed out of part of the Omega destroyer's armor as the destroyer made its way past the battery. Phaser beams and bolts kept hitting it in a constant rain, causing its centrifugal section to visibly malfunction, slowing to a stuttering stop.

"Load missile tubes! All ships, fire at will! Repeat, fire at will!"

The Acheron rocked again as it took a hit and Fontaine had to grit his teeth against the rocking.

Captain Lochley shouted to be heard over the din of battle, "Vesta is coming about! Pollux and Heracles are hit but continue to fight! Juno, Nemesis and the Furies are advancing into the defense grid and engaging the batteries!" She gritted her teeth as her ship took another hit. "Tubes loaded and ready!"

"Fire!"

Missiles armed with conventional warheads flew forth from open missile silos in the Acheron's sides. Several were shot down with phaser beams, but the others went through to detonate against shields which flared and glowed brightly. The weapon platforms weren't visibly damaged.

"Damn," whispered Fontaine. "Load the tubes with nukes!"

Lochley didn't bat an eyelash at the order. "Nukes loaded and ready, sir!"

Soon after the general gave his order, the battery field was alive with new brief suns. As the nuclear detonations faded, shields could be seen glowing around the batteries. Only a few showed some scorch marks.

Fontaine's face fell. "Damn. Damn."

Three of the Federation batteries cooperated in firing phasers at a Hyperion, causing it to tumble sideway before exploding. Other Hyperions rushed into the field of batteries, all guns and missiles firing. Federation shields, however, were difficult for the armada to overcome. A continuous phaser beam managed to drill straight through another Hyperion, putting it out of commission.

EAS HYPERION

"That was the Aegean!" shouted Lieutenant Gideon. He then saw something on the viewing monitor that caused him to point. "Captain!"

Pierce turned around in time to watch the clearly heavily damaged Hyperion-class EAS Pournelle set its engines on full burn. As starfuries flew around in rapid evasive maneuvers while exchanging fire with the orbital batteries, the Pournelle rammed into one of the weapon platforms, overwhelming its shields and pushing it a short distance. The Earth ship's bow crumpled and the whole white-blue ship exploded. The platform soon followed suit by crumpling and shattering. Immediately, its ordinance of photon torpedoes ignited and detonated, creating a massive serial explosion that buffeted nearby ships, fighters and batteries. Those that were already damaged came apart at the pressure of the fiery shockwaves.

The swarms of starfuries continued to try and make their marks. Explosions and disabled fighters were all that resulted from their efforts.

Still, EarthForce advanced into the fire towards Mars.

EAS ACHERON

As the EarthForce armada fired back at the orbital batteries and failed to penetrate their shields, General Fontaine grunted against his safety harnesses. Sparks fountained from a computer console as his Omega rocked violently as it absorbed enemy fire despite the interceptor grid's labor.

"We can't get through the force shields!" Lochley said again.

"Keep firing! We have to get through!"

On a monitor, Fontaine saw three Novas coordinate their plasma cannons onto a single weapon platform, causing it to lose shields and explode. But not before a storm of phasers took one of the offending ships out of the action.

Slamming a fist into an armrest, Fontaine shouted, "That's the way to do it! Tell the fleet to coordinate their attack on individual platforms!"

"I'm on it!"

The battle still raged. More ships fell in fiery deaths and still more tumbled under Federation fire. The EarthForce armada continued to lose more and more ships in the barrage from the orbital batteries, scoring only a few successful hits on the weapons platforms. Missiles, tipped with conventional and nuclear warheads, competed with photon torpedoes. Only the nukes managed to damage shields, but EarthForce's scanning technology was not designed to assess and analyze force shields. So the Earthers continued fighting and throwing all the weapons available in their arsenals at the Federation weapon platforms.

A wave of photon torpedoes slammed into General Fontaine's flagship. Voices came to him from all over the bridge.

"New hull breaches on decks two, three and four!"

"I've lost helm control!"

"Main power's offline!"

Lochley hissed. "The Juno's withdrawing from battle!"

The damaged Omega ship made a turn about as it hazardously opened a jumppoint. The jumppoint tore apart several Federation weapon platforms. The EAS Hyperion seized this moment to make a dive for the jumppoint, leaving the field of battle. The Juno then dove into hyperspace, engine thrusters visibly sputtering.

The Pollux, engines dark from demolition, but still advancing under its own momentum, laid two heavy hits on a weapon platform, which launched photon torpedoes straight into the ship's bow. One torpedo managed to fly right into the Pollux's mouth. The photon torpedoes' detonations took out the ship's entire front.

At the sight of the burning wreck of the Pollux, Fontaine urged the doomed ship's crew under his breath, "Get to the lifepods. Get to the lifepods."

The red light of a massive explosion played from the monitor focused on the Pollux. Fontaine pursed his lips in consternation. Lochley's next report was unnecessary:

"Pollux destroyed! Nemesis is taking severe damage and is requesting permission to withdraw."

Things were not much better on the bridge of the Acheron. Through the smoke, Fontaine could see an officer helping an injured crewman off the deck.

"General!" urged Lochley. "We're taking severe damage, too! What are your orders?"

The Acheron continued to rock under phaser fire. General Fontaine's knuckles whitened as he gripped the arms of his chair. An explosion on the bridge killed two of the officers. Lights and consoles began to go out. The general was a veteran of the Earth-Minbari War, a determined man and as loyal to the Earth Alliance Constitution as Captain Lochley, and by extension, to President Clark. But he was also not stupid. He knew that the battle was lost. He pressed the ship intercom button in a chair arm.

"Fleet command to all ships, retreat! Repeat, retreat!" Fontaine then switched channels. "Abandon ship! Abandon ship! All hands to the lifepods!"

An officer shouted over the din, "Sir! Are you sure? That'll leave us defenseless to those things!"

Fontaine looked at the officer who was nursing his left arm which was bent at an unnatural angle. "That damned Fed captain said the batteries wouldn't fire on unarmed vessels. It's time we find out if he was lying." With that, he clicked his harnesses open and stood up from his chair.

Soon enough, Lochley was helping Fontaine into a lifepod in which a dozen other officers were already cramped. The Acheron's female captain pushed the hatch close from within the lifepod, lifted a clear plastic housing a large button and banged on the button with a fist. There was a whoosh and a shake, and in the hatch's tiny window, they could see the Acheron as the pod shot away from it. Lochley never took her eyes off her dying ship. As their pod got further away, they could see other tiny lifepods flying away from the crippled ship unmolested, as well as other wreckage of broken ships and fighters. Phaser beams and bolts continued to rip apart the Acheron until it exploded, consuming two delayed lifepods.

The light of the explosion filled Elizabeth Lochley's face as it twisted in rage and hatred.

**MarsDome**

Montoya and Tessa were looking at a wall monitor which displayed a representation of the battle in orbit of Mars. They could see most of the surviving EarthForce ships moving to flee even as more died in the continuous phaser storm. The further ships began to vanish off the monitor, indicating that they've jumped into hyperspace.

"I believe I owe you an apology," said Tessa.

Montoya glanced at her. He appeared to be a little surprised. "You don't owe me an apology, Number One. The orbital weapon platforms worked as advertised." He became somber. "But the price is high. So high. These are fellow Humans dying out there."

The blonde woman watched the monitor stonily with steely eyes. "Not our fault. It's Clark paying the price."

President Montoya sighed. He would be glad when the civil war was over.

**Palais de la Concorde**

**Paris, Earth**

**United Federation of Planets**

Ra'ghoratreii, elbows on the presidential desk, rubbed his forehead. Being President of the Federation was an exciting job, but the excitement was the kind that induced headaches in the Efrosian man. One of his two stomachs gurgled slightly. He raised his head and pushed his long white hair back as he reached for the small bowl of Levithi nuts. Popping some of them into his mouth, he appreciated the oily taste of the nuts which grew only on his homeworld, Efros. The only Earth nut that could approximate the taste of Levithi was Macadamia, but Macadamia nuts lacked the oils required for Efrosian health.

Chewing the nuts, Ra'ghor wondered about the previous users of the desk. The desk was supposed to be made from the timber of the ancient seagoing ship Resolute. Its bigger brother was used by the Presidents of the United States before it was destroyed during the nuclear exchange in Earth's Third World War. This particular one came from the Buckingham Palace in London. Did the presidents, kings and queens who used the desk enjoy their jobs? Did the pre-Contact executives think that this desk would one day serve the executives of a vast interstellar realm?

After swallowing the chewed nuts, Ra'ghor sighed as he glanced down at the papers on his desk. His brilliant blue eyes were weak, as was the case for most Efrosians, so he had to put on a pair of glasses. He would have preferred someone read the reports out loud. Writing did not exist in Efrosian culture which was based on a musical language. Nevertheless as Federation President, he had to be proficient in reading and writing.

The intercom on his desk chirped for attention. The voice of his secretary said, _"Mr. President, the Vice-President and the Admiral are here."_

The headache refused to go away. Ra'ghor pulled open a drawer and picked up a small tube. He squeezed a pill out of the tube and popped it into his mouth. Almost immediately, he thought he could feel his headache going away.

"_Mr. President?"_

Pressing a button in the intercom, Ra'ghor said, "Send them in."

One of the two side doors leading into the Presidential Office on the fifteenth floor of the French Third Empire style Palais opened, admitting William Toddman and James Kirk.

Ra'ghor stood up and smiled at the visitors. "Ah, Bill. Admiral Kirk. My congratulations on your promotion. I trust that all is well at Starfleet Headquarters?"

Kirk inclined his head in greeting and shrugged. "I'm settling in. May I speak freely, Mr. President?"

Ra'ghor smiled. "You may. That's the Fleet Admiral's job, isn't it? You're supposed to speak freely with your President."

He chuckled softly. "With all due respect, why me? Why make me the Fleet Admiral? I'm not saying I can't do it. I can. But you know in the past, I've always been reluctant about the admiralty. I would have thought he'd prefer being starship captain."

The President nodded as he gestured for Kirk and Toddman to take a seat in two of the plush chairs in the office. Sitting, Ra'ghor said, "Blame that on Bill. I'll be frank, Jim: I thought I would have nominated Admiral Androvar Drake but Bill persuaded me to go with you."

Toddman said, "We need heroes in these troubling times. Jim, I think you have finally realized that instead of a small starship of metal warping around the galaxy, you could think of the whole of Starfleet like a starship. The Enterprise is gone and the Enterprise-B is still in the Antares Ship Yards. You know it's time for new blood to come to the fore. Any doubt I had about you was banished by how keen you've been so far in your admiralty."

Kirk arched an eyebrow and nodded his acceptance. "Good."

Toddman leaned forward in his seat, signaling his need to speak. "Mr. President, it is because of 'these troubling times' that we've come to you. We need more security for the Federation."

"More security, Bill?"

"Yes, sir. We are in a state of war with both the Earth Alliance and the Centauri Republic, and there's the possibility of war with the Vorlon Empire, not to mention the Romulans."

The President frowned. "One: We are not at war." Ra'ghor then looked over his spectacles at Toddman and raised his eyebrows. "Two: The possibility of war with the Vorlon Empire is because of Starfleet, if Captain Sulu's report is to be believed. Three: We're still working through diplomatic channels to ease the tensions with the Romulan Empire. If we could make peace with the Klingons, we certainly could have peace with the Romulans."

Kirk said, "It is true that we're not at war. However, Starfleet is forced into a quasi-war with the Centauri and the Earthers. We have to deal with that. We've tried diplomacy and it has failed." He glanced over to Toddman. "Starfleet Tactical and Starfleet Intelligence believe that the Vorlons won't go to war. It's simply not in their modus operandi, as far as we know." He took a microtape from a pocket in her pants and stood to hand it across the desk to Ra'ghor. The President glanced at the solid colored square of portable data storage and looked back at Kirk as he continued speaking.

"I've prepared a report compiled by Starfleet Intelligence. Put simply, evidence has surfaced pointing to an alliance between the Shadows and certain elements within the Romulan, Centauri and Earth Alliance governments. Intelligence agents are working with an organization in the other universe known as the Anla'shok or the Rangers."

Toddman frowned. "I'm still not sure about having Starfleet Intelligence working so closely with a foreign agency." He turned to the President. "Still, this reinforces the reports I got of an alliance between the Romulans and the Centauri. As you may know, the Centauri are fighting the Narn Resistance which is itself allied with the Klingon Empire."

Ra'ghor looked as if he just ate a lemon. "Proxy wars."

"Yes, sir."

"I hope that this doesn't spill over to our side, even if, as you say, we have a quasi-war with the Centauri. The Klingons are our allies." He raised a hand to his forehead, feeling the first whispers of a new headache. "What's your recommendation?"

Toddman exchanged a glance with Kirk and said, "Increase security for Starfleet. Bring in telepaths for surface scans of those entering sensitive areas. Sit on these intelligence reports. Do not officially acknowledge the existence of the Shadows."

"Telepaths?" Ra'ghor was not sure he liked the suggestion to use telepaths to scan people's minds. He sighed. "Very well. Only if the increased security is limited to Starfleet vessels and facilities. I won't have paranoia disrupting the people's lives and our lives in the Palais."

Kirk said, "What about sending starships to Starbase 10?"

Toddman shook his head in negation. "That would make the Romulans more paranoid than usual. Besides, an ion storm seems to be slowly developing in the sector. I would suggest we gather a fleet in the Laurentian System. Say it's for a war game. It's far enough from the Neutral Zone yet near enough to quickly reach the starbase if necessary."

The President nodded in agreement. "Very well. I'll contact the government of Laurent about permitting the ships in their system." He stood, signaling an end to the meeting.

Toddman and Kirk stood up. "Thank you, Mr. President," they said.

When the door closed behind the two Human men, Ra'ghor sat back down tiredly. He activated the intercom. "Get me a sign language interpreter. I need to contact the Laurentian government."

"_Yes, Mr. President."_

The last he heard of Laurent was that the colony of Deaf people was negotiating formal relations with the royal family of Ramatis III and the government of the Plaeties System.

The work of a President never ends. He swallowed another of the pills he kept in his desk.

**Sausalito, California, Earth**

**United Federation of Planets**

The lights of the New Cetacean Institute had been augmented with additional pinpoint lights strung around the institute's deck facing the San Francisco Bay. These lights were reflected in the water of the Bay, brightly imitating the twinkling stars in the night sky.

Well-dressed people mingled on the deck above the shore. Some of them wore the delta insignia, wine-red tunic and black pants of Starfleet. White-tuxedoed waiters carried trays of champagne in flutes and chocolate truffles made in the shape of sea creatures.

Leonard McCoy was one of those holding a half-empty champagne flute. He groused, "Why the hell are we here?"

His friend, Dr. Jabilo Geoffrey M'Benga smiled at Dr. McCoy's grousing. "It's a nice break from Starfleet Medical, isn't it? I, for one, appreciate the chance to get away from the Stanford Medical Center. Look over there." M'Benga gestured with his own flute of champagne.

The two doctors watched a Vulcan man pluck several chocolate truffles off a waiter's tray. Though he still had his Vulcan reserve, the doctors' sharp eyes could see the small tell-tale signs of slight intoxication. Where Humans got drunk with alcohol, Vulcans did with chocolate.

"As you can see, Leonard, even Vulcans need a break now and then."

McCoy scoffed. "Tell that to Spock! If I ever find that damned fool—!"

M'Benga was not smiling anymore. "He may have his reasons. I don't understand why he's gone to Romulus, but I honestly don't think he's a defector. You know Admiral Kirk. Mutiny is Jim's story even if he's Commander-in-Chief now. That may have influenced Spock."

"But—!"

"Ah!" M'Benga deliberately turned away and raised a hand. "Uhura!"

Uhura saw M'Benga and came through the throng of people with a young stately man on her arm. She was dressed in a voluminous red embroidered dress.

"Hello, gentlemen." Uhura gave a dazzling smile that made her seem younger than she was. She turned to the man at her arm. "Aaron, these are the doctors I was talking about. Dr. McCoy and Dr. M'Benga, this is Judge Aaron Satie."

McCoy arched an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of Spock. Aaron Satie seemed rather young to be a judge. He briefly wondered if Satie was one of the judges who indicted Spock in absentia. He mentally shook off the notion. Aaron was far too young to be in either the Supreme Court or the Judicial Council.

Satie said with a smile, "If I didn't already have my eye on a certain lady, I'd be very taken with Miss Uhura."

McCoy smiled wryly. "You should have seen her dance on Nimbus III. Sure knocked the socks right off of those rebels."

M'Benga chuckled. "Wish I was there. Must be quite a sight, the way the doctor tells it."

Uhura lightly and playfully slapped M'Benga's shoulder. "I'm not doing it again. Not when I'm teaching at Starfleet Academy."

McCoy was confused. "Teaching…? I thought—?"

Uhura held a finger to her lips. Judge Satie didn't see the gesture.

Instantly, the doctor understood. Uhura's teaching position at the Academy was a cover for her job in Starfleet Intelligence. Suddenly, she seemed to recognize someone in the crowd.

"Madge!"

The doctors and the judge turned to see an African-descent woman in the uniform of a Starfleet admiral. Admiral Margaret Sinclair-Alexander inclined her head in greeting.

Uhura swept a flute glass off of a waiter's tray and pressed it into Margaret's hand. "Madge, how are you? I trust all's well at Starfleet Command? Where's your wife?"

The admiral smiled her thanks. "Cynthia's inside with Admiral Nogura." She looked around at the party. "Too bad Dr. Taylor's not here to see this."

Dr. McCoy said, "Well, Gillian's busy, what with her being our ambassador to the Abbai."

"Must be fascinating for her. A sentient aquatic species working to build a new interstellar alliance?" Madge shook her head in wonder. "It's like being there at the founding of the Federation. I had hoped to meet her. I never did thank her allowing the whales, Georgie and Gracie, save Earth from the Cetacean Probe."

Judge Satie interjected with surprise and interest, "You were there?"

The admiral nodded. "I was captain of the Saratoga that time."

Satie stepped forward and offered his arm to Madge. "Thank you, Miss Uhura for the wonderful evening. I think it's the admiral's turn to show me around the institute."

When the judge and admiral were out of earshot, McCoy leaned conspiratorially toward M'Benga and Uhura, and raised his right hand onto the left side of his mouth. "It's hard to see that the judge has eyes only for his 'certain lady'."

The others chuckled. M'Benga excused himself to find a restroom for himself and vanished into the crowd.

"Now, Uhura, will you tell me what are we doing?" McCoy bounced on his feet in irritation. "Blast it, woman, I didn't ask for an invitation to no damned fancy party!"

"The best place to hide something is in plain sight and the best place to talk about secrets is in a loud place," Uhura said archly. Sighing, she added, "First they told me that life was complicated. Then, they told me that business was complicated. Finally, they told me that the government was complicated. But no amount of forewarning could have prepared me for Starfleet Intelligence Command."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I never signed up to Starfleet for all this cloak and dagger stuff."

"I didn't, either," shot back Uhura. Softening, she said, "I have to say this before Dr. M'Benga comes back: I got information from Tim Pennington and—"

"Wait, wait, you getting tips from a _reporter_?"

"Yes, Leonard."

The doctor clammed up. Uhura's use of his first name showed how important she thought this was. He nodded for her to continue.

"He's an editor, not a reporter. Sometimes the news, especially the Federation News Service, is a good source of information. There's little difference between reporters and agents, except that reporters shout their information from the rooftops."

McCoy had to smile at the image that conjured. The great editor, reporter and anchorman Tim Pennington standing on a rooftop and shouting himself hoarse into the night. If this was early 21st century Earth, it would be tantamount to Anderson Cooper, Barbara Walters or Christiane Amanpour doing the same thing.

"Anyway, the Earth Alliance failed to break Sulu's blockade around Mars Colony."

"Good," grunted McCoy. "Clark had it coming to him. Bombing civilians…what is he, a blasted idiot?"

"EarthGov has declared war on the Federation."

McCoy stared dumbfounded. "I take it back. Clark's the biggest idiot in the galaxy, worse than the likes of Adrik Thorsen!"

Uhura had to agree. "But this is a distraction we could do without. The Rangers contacted Gillian and Ambassador Miranda Jones about rumors of a conspiracy of Shadows in our universe."

McCoy bit his lower lip in consternation. He knew that this 'conspiracy of Shadows' had affected the Earth Alliance. He didn't want to say his thought out loud but he had to: "So you think that's what behind whatever's fishy about Starfleet lately?"

Uhura shrugged. "I don't know. It fits what Ambassador Sarek told Spock before he died."

"Spock said that there's a cancer inside Starfleet, that there's a pattern that could mean someone's moving chess pieces around in preparation for a takeover of key Federation sectors." McCoy's forehead creased with worry. "Think the Shadows are behind that?"

"I have no idea."

McCoy quaffed what champagne was left in his flute and quickly exchanged it for a full flute with a passing waiter. "Does Admiral Nogura know?"

"Yes. I talked with him just before meeting Judge Satie. Starfleet Command has already proposed increased security and the use of telepaths to the President. I don't know what more we can do about this."

"Isn't Starfleet Command compromised?"

"Possibly." Uhura clearly didn't like the thought. "Admiral Nogura's not called 'The Old Man' or even 'God Himself' for nothing. If anyone could do something about this, it's him."

Heihachiro Nogura had come out of retirement to become the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet immediately after the Rittenhouse Scandal in 2270 before making way for Fleet Admiral Dai Mehkan in 2276. Nogura had successfully repaired Starfleet's reputation in the aftermath of that scandal, and remained in the Admiralty, assisting Fleet Admirals Robert Bennett, William Toddman and now James Kirk.

"I wonder…is the Farragut still here?"

Uhura knew that the doctor was referring to the ship's captain, Sean Bruce Finnegan. He was there at P'Jem when Spock met Ambassador Sarek and Captain Thelin of the Republic.

"Yes. It'll be leaving for Starbase 10 soon. He might be able to do something here."

"I hope so," McCoy hurriedly said, seeing M'Benga coming back.

Uhura nodded and sipped her champagne.

**Grand Palais**

**Paris, Earth**

The Grand Palais was a large glass and iron exhibition hall built for the Paris Exposition of 1900. Today, it served as a palatial greenhouse holding exotic plants from worlds all across the Federation. The early morning sun peaked through the glass panels above as William Toddman walked through garden. So many different plants from Earth and alien homeworlds arranged pleasingly to show the diversity and unity of the Federation. He had finished his morning run along the River Seine and crossed the Alexander III Bridge to step into the Grand Palais for a leisurely walk.

He knew that he would be very busy in the coming days, so he took this chance to walk through the Starfleet gardens before walking to the Palais de la Concorde standing between the Petit Palais, the Place de la Concorde and the Avenue des Champs Élysées.

The thought of that seat of Federation government allowed work to intrude upon his mind. He wondered about the great Admiral Nogura. Nogura knew so much. He had a formidable air and had the ability to get the job done. But could he be trusted?

Toddman had heard whispered rumors of people inside Starfleet, a secret group that fought dirty to keep the Federation clean. He had privately investigated these rumors on his own when these rumors increased slightly immediately after the Lantaru Disaster in which a scientist trying to harness an ultimate power source failed, destroying a research station and subspace throughout the Lantaru Sector. The investigation had come to a dead end except that at one point, Lance Cartwright may have been connected to that secret group.

Perhaps he should try to get in touch with that secret group and work with them to preserve the Federation. He had heard similar whispered rumors of people like Admirals Aaron Stone, José Mendez, Robert Wesley, and Commodores Nick Silver and Phil Waterston working against that group. The most he could find out was that James Kirk worked with that anti-group cadre while he was still captain shortly after the Lantaru Disaster.

Admiral Kirk. Could _he_ be trusted? Toddman shook his head. Of course, he could. He was James T. Kirk, for heaven's sake! He wouldn't have persuaded the President to nominate Kirk for the Fleet Admiralty if he didn't think that he was trustworthy.

Toddman shook his head again and smelled a tall flower. He wasn't about to let the bogeyman get to him.

A moment later, he heard a snap. Toddman turned around and peered into the foliage and shadows. When he came into the Grand Palais, he seemed to be alone. Not so, anymore. He wished he had a phaser with him.

"Who's there?"

The response came in the form of phased plasma bolts narrowly missing his chest and sizzling into the plants. Toddman bolted, running through the flower beds. Another twig snapped behind him and he looked behind.

The pursuer came into a soft beam of morning sunlight, bringing well known features into view.

"You? NO!"

Plasma bolts pierced William Toddman in the chest. Death took him even as his scream echoed.


End file.
